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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRFSENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


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OX   THE    RETREAT   FROXI    BULL   RUN. -Page  i^S. 


THE  SOLDIER  BOY; 


TOM  SOMERS  IN  THE  ARMY. 


%  mov^  of  ihs  ®wat  i«lfr<Uian. 


BY 


OLIVER    OPTIC, 

AUTHOR   OF    "  RICH   AND   Hl'MBLE,"    "  IN   SCHOOL   AND    OUT,"   "  THE  BOAT   CLUB,' 

"ALL   ABOARD,"    "NOW   OR    NEVER,"   ''TRY   AGAIN,"  ''POOR  AND   PROUD," 

"UTILE  BY  UTILE,"   "THE  RIVEBDALE  STORY  BOOKS,"  ETC. 


BOSTON : 
LEE   AND   SHEFARD,    PUBLISHERS. 

NEW  YORK: 
CHARLES  T.  DILLINGHAM. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Con^csB,  in  the  year  1863,  by 

WILLIAM    T.    ADAMS, 

In  tbe  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massacnusetti. 


TO 


WILLIAM   LEE,  ESQ. 


This  Boole 


IS    RESPECTFULLY     DEDICATED, 


BY     HIS     FRIEND 


WILLIAM    T.    ADAMS. 


602668 


PREFACE 


This  Tolume  is  not  altogether  a  military  roma.'ace,  though  it 
contains  the  adventures  of  one  of  those  noble-hearted  and  pa- 
triotic young  men  who  went  forth  from  homes  of  plenty  and 
happiness  to  fight  the  battles  of  our  imperilled  country.  The 
incidents  of  the  story  may  be  stirring  and  exciting  :  vet  they 
are  not  only  within  the  bounds  of  probability,  but  lave  been 
more  than  parf»lleled  in  the  experience  of  hundreds  of  the  gal- 
lant soldiers  of  the  loyal  army. 

The  work  is  not  intended  to  approach  the  dignity  of  a  his- 
tory, though  the  writer  has  carefully  consulted  the  "  authorities," 
both  loyal  and  rebel,  and  has  taken  down  the  living  words  of 
enthusiastic  participants  in  the  stirring  scenes  described  in  this 
volume.  He  has  not  attempted  to  give  a  full  picture  of  any 
battle,  or  other  army  operation,  but  simply  of  those  move- 
ments in  which  the  hero  took  a  part.  The  book  is  a  nar- 
rative of  personal  adventure,  delineating  the  birth  and  growth 
of  a  pure  patriotism  in  the  soul  of  the  hero,  and  describing 
the  perils  and  privations,  the  battles  and  marches  which  he 
shared  with  thousands  of  brave  men  in  the  army  of  the  Po- 
tomac. 

The  author  has  endeavored  to  paint  »  picture  of  the  fue 
1*  «) 


g  PREFACE, 

soldier,  one  who  loves  his  country,  and  fights  for  her  becaus* 
he  loves  her;  but,  at  the  same  time,  one  who  is  true  to  him- 
self and  his  God,  while  he  is  faithful  to  his  patriotic  impulses. 
The  work  has  been  a  pleasure  to  me  in  its  preparation,  and 
I  hope  it  will  not  disappoint  the  reasonable  expectation  of 
those  partial  friends  whose  smile  is  my  joy,  whose  frown  is  my 
grief.  But,  more  than  all,  I  trust  this  humble  volume  will 
have  some  small  influence  in  kindling  and  cherishing  that  gen- 
uine patriotism  which  must  ever  be  the  salvation  of  our  land, 
the  foundation  of  our  national  prosperity  and  happ\ne88. 

WILLIAM  T.  ADAMS. 


CONTENTS, 


I.    THfc  Battle  of  Pinchbrook, 11 

II.    The  eoMERS  Family, 21 

III.  TA>n>rG  A  Traitor, 32 

IV.  The  Committee  come  out,  and  Tom  goes  in,  ...  .  41 
V.    The  Attic  Chamber, 49 

VI.    The  Way  is  prepared, 58 

VII.    A  Midnight  Adventure, 68 

VIII.    Signing  the  Papers, 77 

IX.    The  Departure, 87 

X.    Company  K, 97 

XI.    In  Washington, 107 

XII.    "  On  to  Eichmond," 118 

XIII.  The  Battle  of  Bull  Elti, 127 

XIV.  After  the  Battle, 137 

XV.    Tom  a  Prisoner, 147 

XVI.    A  Perplexing  Question, 157 

XVII.    Dinner  and  Danger, 166 

XVIII.    The  Rebel  Soldier, 176 

XIX.    Through  the  Gap, 186 

XX.    Down  the  Shenandoah, 19« 

XXI.    The  Problem  of  Rations, 201 


g  CONTENTS. 

XXII.    The  Picket  Guard, 21* 

XXIII,  The  End  of  the  Voyage, 226 

XXIV.  BuDD's  Ferry, 236 

XXV.    In  the  Hospital, 246 

XXVI.    Tom  is  sentimental, 256 

XXVII.    The  Confederate  Deserter, 266 

XXVIII.    On  the  Peninsula, 275 

XXIX.    The  Battle  of  Williamsburg, 284 

XXX.    More  of  the  Battle, 294 

XXXI.    Glory  and  Victory, 302 

XXXII.    "  Honorable  Mention," 312 

KXXUI.    Lieutenant  Somers  and  Others, 321 


THE    SOLDIER   JJOY. 


THE   SOLDIER  BOY; 


OR, 


TOM    SOMEES    IN    THE    ARMY 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE    BATTLE    OF    PINCHBROOK. 

J  Tort    SUMTER    has    surrendered,    mother!" 
shouted    Thomas    Somers,  as    he    rushed    into 
I     the   room  where  his  mother  was  quietly  read- 
ing her  Bible. 

It  was  Sunday,  and  the  exciting  news  had  been  cir- 
culated about  the  usually  quiet  village  of  Pinchbrook 
Harbor.  Men's  lips  were  compressed,  and  their  teeth 
shut  tight  together.  They  were  indignant,  for  traitors 
had  fired  upon  the  flag  of  the  United  States.  Men, 
women,  and  children  were  roused  by  the  indignity 
offered  to  the  national  emblem.  The  cannon  balls  that 
struck  the  walls  of  Sumter  seemed  at  the  same  time  to 
strike  the  souls  of  the  whole  population  of  the  North, 
and  never  was  there  such  a  gi'eat  awakening  since  the 


[2  THE    SOLDI  Eli    BOY,    OR 

Pilgrim  Fathers  first   planted  their  feet  upon  the  rock 
of  Plymouth. 

"  Fort  Sumter  has  surrendered  !  "  shouted  the  indig- 
nant young  patriot  again,  as  his  mother  looked  up  from 
the  blessed  volume. 

"  You  don't  say  so ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Somers,  as 
she  closed  the  Bible,  and  removed  her  spectacles. 

"  Yes,  mother.  The  infernal  rebels  hammered  away 
at  the  fort  for  two  days,  and  at  last  we  had  to 
give  in." 

•"'  There'll  be  terrible  times  afore  long,"  replied  the 
old  lady,  shaking  her  head  with  prophetic  earnestness. 

"  The  President  has  called  for  seventy-five  thousand 
volunteers,  and  I  tell  you  there'll  be  music  before 
long !  "  continued  the  youth,  so  excited  that  he  paced 
the  room  w^ith  rapid  strides. 

.    "What's  the  matter,  Thomas?"    asked  a  feeble  old 
gentleman,  entering  the  room  at  this  moment. 

"  Fort  Sumter  has  surrendered,  gran'ther,"  repeated 
Thomas,  at  the  top  of  his  lungs,  for  the  aged  man  was 
quite  deaf;  "  and  the  President  has  called  for  seventy- 
five  thousand  men  to  go  do^^^l  and  fight  the  traitors." 

"  Sho  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  man,  halting,  and  gazing 
with  earnestness  into  the  face  of  the  boy. 

"It's  a  fact,  gran'ther." 

"  Well,  I'm  too  old  to  go,"  muttered  gran'ther 
Greene;  "but  I  wa'n't  older'n  you  are  when  I  shoul- 


TOAf   SO  ME  US    IN    THE    ARMT.  13 

dered  my  firelock  in  1812.  I'm  too  old  and  stiflf  to 
go  now." 

*'  How  old  were  you,  gran'ther,  when  you  went  to 
the  war  ?  "  asked  Thomas,  with  more  moderation  than 
he  had  exhibited  before. 

"  Only  sixteen,  Thomas ;  but  I  was  as  tall  as  I  am 
now,"  replied  the  patriarch,  dropping  slowly  and  cau^ 
tiously  into  the  old-fashioned  high-back  chair,  by  the 
side  of  the  cooking  stove. 

"  Well,  I'm  sixteen,  and  I  mean  to  go.'* 

"  You,  Thomas  !  You  are  crazy  !  You  shan't  do  any 
thing  of  the  kind,"  interposed  Mrs.  Somers.  "  There's 
men  enough  to  go  to  the  war,  without  such  boys  as 
you  are." 

"  You  ain't  quite  stout  enough  to  make  a  soldier, 
Thomas.  You  ain't  so  big  as  I  was,  when  I  went  off 
to  York  state,"  added  gran'ther  Greene. 

"  I  should  like  to  go  any  how,"  said  Thomas,  as  he 
seated  himself  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  and  began  to 
think  thoughts  big  enough  for  a  full-grown  man. 

"  Fort  Sumter  has  surrendered,"  shouted  John  Som- 
ers, rushing  into  the  house  as  much  excited  as  his 
brother  had  been. 

"  We've  heard  all  about  it,  John,"  replied  his 
mother. 

"  The  President  has  called  for  seventy-five  thousand 
men,  and  in  my  opinion  the  rebels  will  get  an  awful 
2 


u 


THE    SOLDIER    BOT,    OR 


licking  before  they  are  a  fortnight  older.     I  should  like 
to  go  and  help  do  it." 

The  exciting  news  was  discussed  among  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Somers  family,  as  it  was  in  thousands  of 
other  families,  on  that  eventful  Sunday.  Thomas  and 
John  could  think  of  nothing,  speak  of  nothing,  but  Fort 
Sumter,  and  the  terrible  castigation  which  the  rebel.* 
would  receive  from  the  insulted  and  outraged  North 
They  were  loyal  even  to  enthusiasm ;  and  when  the} 
retired  to  their  chamber  at  night,  they  ventured  to  ex 
press  to  each  other  their  desire  to  join  the  great  arm;- 
which  was  to  avenge  the  insult  offered  to  the  flag  of  the 
Union. 

They  were  twin  brothers,  sixteen  years  of  age ;  but 
they  both  thought  they  were  old  enough  and  strong 
enough  to  be  soldiers.  Their  mother,  however,  hac^ 
promptly  disapproved  of  such  suggestions,  and  they  had 
not  deemed  it  prudent  to  discuss  the  idea  in  her 
presence. 

On  Monday,  the  excitement  instead  of  subsiding,  was 
fanned  to  a  fever  heat ;  Pinchbrook  Harbor  was  in  a 
glow  of  patriotism.  Men  neglected  their  usual  occupa- 
tions, and  talked  of  the  affairs  of  the  nation.  Every  per- 
son who  could  procure  a  flag  hung  it  out  at  his  window, 
or  hoisted  it  in  his  yard,  or  on  his  house.  The  governor 
had  called  out  a  portion  of  the  state  militia,  and  already 
the  tramp  of  armed  men  was  heard  in  the  neigh- 
boring city  of  Boston. 


TO-M.SOMERS   IN   THE  ARMY.  15 

Thomas  Somers  was  employed  in  a  store  in  the  vil- 
lage, and  during  the  forenoon  he  mechanically  performed 
the  duties  of  his  position  ;  but  he  could  think  of  nothing 
but  the  exciting  topic  of  the  day.  His  blood  was  boilin*^ 
with  indignation  against  those  who  had  trailed  our  hal- 
lowed flag  in  the  dust.  He  wanted  to  do  something  to 
redeem  the  honor  of  his  country  —  something  to  wipe  out 
the  traitors  who  had  dared  to  conspire  against  her  peace. 
On  his  way  home  to  dinner,  he  met  Fred  Pemberton, 
who  lived  only  a  short  distance  from  his  o\vn  house. 

''What  do  you  think  now,  Fred?"    said  Thomas. 

"What  do  I  think?  I  think  just  as  I  always  did  — 
the  North  is  wrong,  and  the  South  is  right,"  replied 
Fred. 

"  Who  fired  upon  Fort  Sumter?  That's  the  question," 
said  Thomas,  his  eyes  flashing  with  indignation. 

"  IMiy  didn't  they  give  up  the  fort,  then?" 

"  Give  up  the  fort  I  Shall  the  United  States  cave  in 
before  the  little  State  of  South  Carolina.  Not  by  a  two 
chalks ! " 

"  I  think  the  North  has  beei^  teasing  and  vexing  the 
South  till  the  Southerners  can't  stand  it  any  longer. 
There'll  be  Avar  now." 

"  I  hope  there  will !    By  gracious,  I  hope  so  !  " 

"  I  hope  the  South  will  beat !  " 

"Do  you?  Do  you,  Fred  Pemberton?"  demanded 
Tom,  so  excited  he  could  not  stand  still 


l^  THE    SOLDIER   BOY,   OR 

"  Yes,  I  do.  The  South  has  the  rights  of  it.  If  w© 
had  let  their  niggers  alone,  there  wouldn't  have  been  any 
trouble." 

"  You  are  as  blind  as  a  bat,  Fred.  Don't  you  see 
this  isn't  a  quarrel  between  the  North  and  the  South, 
but  between  the  government  and  the  rebels  ?  " 

''  I  don't  see  it.  If  the  North  had  let  the  South 
alone,  therc  wouldn't  have  been  any  fuss.  I  hope  the 
North  will  get  whipped,  and  I  know  she  will." 

"  Fred,  you  are  a  traitor  to  your  country  ! " 

^'  No,  I'm  not !  " 

"  Yes,  you  are ;  and  if  I  had  my  way,  I'd  ride  you 
on  a  rail  out  of  to-vvn." 

''  No,  you  wouldn't.'* 

''  Yes,  I  would.  I  always  thought  you  were  a  decent 
fellow ;  but  you  are  a  dirty,  low-lived  traitor." 

"  Better  be  careful  what  you  say,  Tom  Somers  !  "  re- 
torted the  young  secessionist,  angrily. 

''  A  fellow  that  won't  stand  by  his  country  ain't  fit  to 
live.     You  are  an  out-and-out  traitor." 

"  Don't  call  me  that  again,  Tom  Somers,"  replied 
Fred,  doubling  up  his  fist. 

"  I  say  you  are  a  traitor." 

''  Take  that,  then." 

Tom  did  take  it,  and  it  was  a  pretty  hard  blow 
on  the  side  of  his  head.  Perhaps  it  was  fortunate 
fvT  our    young   patriot    that    an    opportunity  was  tbuj 


TOM   SOMERS    IN   THE  ARMY.  17 

afforded  him  to  evaporate  some  of  his  enthusiasm  in  the 
cause  of  his  oountr}',  for  there  is  no  knowing  what 
might  have  been  the  consequence  if  it  had  remained 
longer  pent  up  in  his  soul.  Of  course,  he  struck  hack  ; 
and  a  contest,  on  a  small  scale,  between  the  loyall}' 
of  the  North  and  the  treason  of  the  South  com- 
menced. How  long  it  might  have  continued,  or  whr.t 
might  have  been  the  result,  cannot  now  be  considered  ; 
for  the  approach  of  a  chaise  interrupted  the  battle, 
and  the  forces  of  secession  were  reenforced  by  a  fuUr 
grown  man. 

The  gentleman  stepped  out  of  his  chaise  w^th  his 
whip  in  his  hand,  and  proceeded  to  lay  it  about  the 
legs  and  body  of  the  representative  of  the  Union  side. 
This  was  more  than  Tom  Somers  could  stand,  and  he 
retreated  in  good  order  from  the  spot,  till  he  had  placed 
himself  out  of  the  reach  of  the  whip. 

''What    do    you   mean,  you  young  scoundrel?"    de 
manded  the  gentleman  who  had  interfered. 

Tom  looked  at  him,  and  discovered  that  it  was  Squire 
Pemberton,  the  father  of  his  late  opponent. 

"  He  hit  me  first,"  said  Tom. 

"  He  called  me  a  traitor,"  added  Fred.  "  I  won't  b« 
called  a  traitor  by  him,  or  any  other  fellow." 

"  What  io  you  mean  by  calling  my  son  a  trait«r,  you 
villain?" 

2* 


jg     -  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,   OM 

"  I  meant  just  what  I  said.  He  is  a  traitor.  He 
said  he  hoped  the  South  would  beat." 

''  Suppose  he  did.  1  hope  so  too,"  added  Squire 
Pemberton. 

The  squire  thought,  evidently,  that  this  ought  to  set' 
tie  the  question.     If  he  hoped  so,  that  was  enough. 

"  Then  you  are  a  traitor,  too.  That's  all  I've  got 
to  say,"  replied  Tom,  boldly. 

"  You  scoundrel !  How  dare  you  use  such  a  word 
to  me  !  "  roared  the  squire,  as  he  moved  towards  the 
blunt-spoken  little  patriot. 

For  strategic  reasons,  Tom  deemed  it  prudent  to 
fall  back ;  but  as  he  did  so,  he  picked  up  a  couple 
of  good-sized  stones. 

^'  I  said  you  were  a  traitor,  and  I  say  so  again," 
said  Tom. 

"Two  can  play  at  that  game,"  added  Fred,  as  he 
picked  up  a  stone  and  threw  it  at  Tom. 

The  Union  force  returned  the  fire  with  the  most 
determined  energy,  until  one  of  the  missiles  struck  the 
horse  attached  to  the  chaise.  The  animal,  evidently 
^laving  no  sympathy  with  either  party  in  this  minia- 
ture contest,  and  without  considering  how  much  damage 
he  might  do  the  rebel  cause,  started  off  at  a  furious 
pace  when  the  stone  struck  him.  He  dashed  down 
the  hill  at  a  fearfid  rate,  and  bounded  away  over  the 
plain  that  led  to  the  Harbor. 


TOM   SOMKIiS   IX    THE  ARMY.  \^ 

Squire  Pembertou  aud  his  son  had  more  interest  in 
the  fate  of  the  runaway  horse  than  they  had  in  the 
issue  of  the  contest,  and  both  started  at  the  top  of 
their  speed  in  pursuit.  But  they  might  as  well  liaNe 
ohased  a  flash  of  lightning,  or  a  locomotive  going  at 
the  rate  of  fifty  miles  an  hour. 

Tom  Somers  came  down  from  the  bank  w^hich  he 
had  ascended  to  secure  a  good  position.  He  had  done 
rather  more  than  he  intended  to  do  ;  but  on  the  whole 
he  did  not  much  regret  it.  He  watched  the  course 
of  the  spirited  animal,  as  he  dashed  madly  on  to  de- 
struction. The  career  of  the  horse  was  short ;  for  in 
the  act  of  turning  a  corner,  half  a  mile  from  the  spot 
where  Tom  stood,  he  upset  the  chaise,  and  was  him- 
self thrown  down,  and,  being  entangled  in  the  harness, 
was  unable  to  rise  before  a  stout  man  had  him  by 
the  head. 

"  I  wish  that  chaise  had  been  the  southern  confed- 
eracy," said  Tom  to  himself,  philosophically,  Avhen  he 
saw  the  catastrophe  in  the  distance.  "  Well,  it  served 
you  right,  old  vSecesh  ;  and  I'll  bet  there  ain't  many 
folks  in  Pinchbrook  Harbor  that  will  be  willing  to 
comfort  the  mourners." 

With  this  consoling  assurance,  Tom  continued  on  hiif 
way  home.  At  dinner,  he  gave  the  family  a  faithful 
Account  of  the  transaction. 

"You  didn't  do  right,  Thomas,"  said  his  mother. 


20  THE   SOLDIER   BOY.    OR 

"  He  hit  me  first." 

"  You  called  him  a  traitor." 

"  He  is  a  traitor,  and  so  is  his  father." 

"  I  declare,  the  boys  are  as  full  of  fight  as  an  egg  ii 
of  meat,"  added  gran'ther  Greene. 

"  You  haveu't  seen  the  last  of  it  yet,  Thomas,"  said 
the  prudent  mother. 

"  No  matter,  Tom ;  I'll  stand  by  you,"  added  John. 

After  dinner,  the  two  boys  walked  down  to  the 
Harbor  together. 


TOM  30MERS   IN   THE  ARMT.  21 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE     SOMERS     FAMILY. 

/^^f^HE  town  of  Piuchbrook  is  not  a  great  distance 
/ 1  from  Boston,  with  which  it  is  connected  by  rail- 
^^Jy  road.  If  any  of  our  young  readers  are  of  a 
geot^raphical  turn  of  mind,  and  are  disposed  to  ascertain 
the  exact  locality  of  the  place,  Ave  will  save  them  any 
unnecessary  trouble,  for  it  is  not  laid  down  on  any  map 
with  which  we  are  familiar.  We  live  in  times  of  war, 
and  probably  our  young  friends  have  already  learned  the 
meaning  of  "  military  necessity."  Our  story  is  essen- 
tially a  military  story,  and  there  are  certain  military 
secrets  connected  with  it  which  might  be  traced  out  if 
we  should  inform  our  inquisitive  readers  exactly  where 
Pinchbrook  is  situated. 

Squire  Pemberton,  we  doubt  not,  is  very  anxious  to 
find  out  certain  persons  connected  with  some  irregular 
proceedings  in  and  around  his  house  on  the  evening  of 
Monday,  April  16th.  Fidelity  to  the  truth  of  history 
compels  us  to  narrate  these  proceedings  in  our  humble 
volume  ;  but  we  should  exceedingly  regret  thereby  to  get 


22  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

any  of  our  friends  into  a  scrape  by  informing  the  squire 
that  they  were  active  participants  in  the  scenes  of  that 
eventful  night,  or  to  say  any  thing  which  would  enable 
him,  a  lawyer,  to  trace  out  the  authors  of  the  mischief 
through  these  pages.  Therefore  we  cannot  say  where 
Pinchbrook  is,  or  even  give  a  hint  which  would  enable 
our  readers  to  fix  definitely  its  locality. 

Pinchbrook  is  a  town  of  about  three  thousand  inhab- 
itants, engaged,  as  the  school  books  would  say,  in  agri- 
culture, manufactures,  commerce,  and  the  fisheries, 
which,  rendered  into  still  plainer  English,  means  that 
some  of  the  people  are  farmers ;  that  wooden  pails, 
mackerel  kegs,  boots  and  shoes,  are  made  ;  that  the 
inhabitants  buy  groceries,  and  sell  fish,  kegs,  pails,  and 
similar  wares  ;  and  that  there  are  about  twenty  vessels 
owned  in  the  place,  the  principal  part  of  which  are 
fishermen. 

We  have  not  the  agi'icultural  and  commercial  sta- 
tistics  of  the  place  at  hand ;  but  the  larger  territorial 
part  of  the  town  was  devoted  to  the  farming  interest, 
and  was  rather  sparsely  populated,  while  the  principal 
village,  called  Pinchbrook  Harbor,  was  more  densely 
peopled,  contained  two  stores,  four  churches,  one  wharf, 
a  blacksmith  shop,  and  several  shoe  and  bucket  manu- 
factories. 

We  are  willing  to  acknowledge  that  Pinchbrook  is 
rather    a    singular    name.      The  antiquarians  have  not 


TOM   SOMEllf;   JX    THE   AliAfY. 


23 


yet  liiul  au  opportunity  to  detcrmiue  its  origin ;  but 
our  private  opiuiou  is  tliat  the  word  is  a  corruption 
of  Punch-hrook.  Perhaps,  at  some  remote  period  iu 
the  history  of  the  town,  before  the  Sons  of  Temper- 
ance obtained  a  foothold  in  the  place,  a  villanous 
mixture,  known  to  topers  under  the  general  appellation 
of  "  punch,"  may  have  been  largely  consumed  by  the 
Pinchbrookers.  Though  not  a  very  aged  person  our- 
self,  we  have  heard  allusions  to  festive  occasions  where, 
metaphorically,  the  punch  w^as  said  to  "flow  in  streams." 
Possibly,  from  ""streams"  came  "brooks,"  —  hence, 
"  Punchbrook,"  —  which,  under  the  strange  mutations 
of  time,  has  become  "  Piuchbrook."  But  Ave  are  not 
learned  in  these  matters,  and  we  hope  that  nothing 
we  have  said  will  bias  the  minds  of  antiquarians,  and 
prevent  them  from  devoting  that  attention  to  the  origin 
of  the  word  which  its  importance  demands. 

The  Somers  family,  Avhich  we  have  already  partially 
introduced,  occupied  a  small  cottage  not  quite  a  mile 
from  Pinchbrook  Harbor.  Captain  Somers,  the  head  of 
the  family,  had  been,  and  was  still,  for  aught  his  wife 
and  children  knew,  master  of  the  schooner  Gazelle. 
To  purchase  this  vessel,  he  had  heavily  mortgaged  his 
house  and  lands  in  Pinchbrook  to  Squire  Pemberton. 
But  his  voyages  had  not  been  imiformly  successful, 
though  the  captain  believed  that  his  earthly  possessions, 
after  discharging   all    his    liabilities,  would   amount   tn  / 

*bout  five  thousand  dollars. 


^ 


24  THE    SOLDIER   BOY,    OR 

The  mortgage  note  would  become  due  in  June,  and 
Captain  Somers  had  been  making  a  strong  effort  to  realize 
upon  his  property,  so  as  to  enable  him  to  pay  otF  the 
obligation  at  maturity.  Captain  Somers  had  a  brother 
who  was  familiarly  known  in  the  family  as  uncle  Wy- 
mau.  He  had  spent  his  life,  from  the  age  of  eighteen, 
in  the  South,  and  at  the  time  of  which  we  write,  he 
was  a  merchant  in  Norfolk <> 

Captain  Somers  and  his  brother  had  been  interested 
together  in  certain  mercantile  transactions,  and  uncle 
Wymau,  being  the  business  man,  had  the  proceeds  of 
these  ventures  in  his  own  hands. 

On  the  10th  of  April,  only  two  days  before  the 
bombardment  of  Fort  Sumter,  Captain  Somers  had 
sailed  in  the  Gazelle,  with  an  assorted  cargo,  for  Nor 
folk.  Before  leaving  home  he  had  assured  his  wife 
that  he  should  not  return  without  effecting  a  settle- 
ment with  Wyman,  who  had  postponed  it  so  many 
times,  that  the  honest  sailor  began  to  fear  his  brother 
did  not  mean  to  deal  justly  Avith  him.  Nothing  had 
been  heard  of  the  Gazelle  since  her  departure  from 
Boston. 

Uncle  ^Vyman  was  known  to  be  a  northern  man 
with  southern  principles,  while  his  brother,  though  not 
in  the  habit  of  saying  much  about  politics,  was  fully 
committed  on  the  side  of  the  government,  and  was 
willinff    to   sustain  the  President  in  the    use  of   all  the 


To^r  SOBERS  ly  the  army.  25 

coercion  that  might  be  necessary  to  enforce  obedience 
to  the  laws.  The  threatening  aspect  of  affairs  at  the 
South  had  made  Captain  Somers  more  than  ever 
anxious  to  have  his  accounts  adjusted,  as  all  his  earthlv 
possessions,  except  the  schooner,  were  in  the  hands 
of  his  brother ;  and  the  fact  that  uncle  Wyman  was  so 
strong  an  advocate  of  Southern  riglits,  liad  caused  him 
to  make  the  declaration  that  he  would  not  return  with- 
out a  settlement. 

The  financial  affairs  of  the  Somers  family,  therefore, 
were  not  in  a  very  prosperous  condition,  and  the  sol- 
vency of  the  house  depended  entirely  upon  the  adjust- 
ment with  uncle  Wyman.  The  mortgage  note  which 
Squire  Pemberton  held  would  be  due  in  June,  and  as 
the  creditor  ,was  not  an  indulgent  man,  there  was  a 
orospect  that  even  the  little  cottage  and  the  little  farm 
might  be  wrested  from  them. 

The  family  at  home  consisted  of  Mrs.  Somers  an(3 
three  children.  The  two  oldest  daughters  were  married 
to  two  honest,  hard-working  fishermen  at  the  Harbor. 
Thomas  and  John  were  twins,  sixteen  years  of  age. 
Tlie  former  had  a  place  in  one  of  the  stores  at  the 
village,  and  the  latter  occasionally  went  a  fishing  trip 
with  his  brothers-in-law.  Both  of  the  boys  had  been 
brought  up  to  work,  and  there  was  need  enough  now 
that  they  should  contribute  what  they  could  to  the 
awpport  of  the  family.     The  youngest  child,  Jane,  wa-^ 

a 


26  THE    !iOLDIER   BOY,   OR 

but  eleven  ycurs  of  age,  and  went  to  school.  Mrs. 
Somers'd  brother,  a  feeble  old  man,  a  soldier  iu  the  war 
of  1812,  aud  a  peusiouer  of  the  goverument,  had  been 
a  member  of  the  family  for  twenty  years ;  and  was 
familiarly  known   in   town   as   ^'  Gi-an'ther  Green." 

Having  thus  nia  I3  our  readers  acquainted  with  Pinch- 
brook  and  the  Somers  family,  v/e  are  prepared  to  con- 
t.iinie  onr  story. 

Thomas  and  John  walked  down  to  the  Harbor  to- 
gether after  dinner.  The  hitter  had  listened  with  in- 
terest and  approbation  to  his  brother's  account  of  the 
"  Battle  of  Pinchbrook,"  as  he  facetiously  called  it ; 
and  perhaps  he  thought  Thomas  might  need  his  as- 
sistance before  he  reached  the  store,  for  Fred  and  his 
father  would  not  probably  be  Avilling  to  let  the  matter 
rest  where  they  had  left  it. 

We  are  sorry  not  to  be  able  to  approve  all  the  acts 
of  the  hero  of  this  volume  ;  but  John,  without  asking 
our  opinion,  fully  indorsed  the  action  of  his  brother. 

"  Fred  is  a  traitor,  and  so  is  his  father,"  said  he,  as 
they  passed  out  at  the  front  gate  of  the  little  cottage. 

"  That's  so.  Jack ;  and  it  made  my  blood  boil  to 
hear  them  talk,"  replied  Thomas.  "  And  I  couldn't 
help  calling  things  by  their  right  names." 

"  Bully  for  you,  Tom  !  "  added  John,  as  he  turned 
round,  and  glanced  at  the  house  to  assure  himself 
they  were  out  of  the  hearing  of  their  mother.      "  B*' 


TOM  SOMERS   IN    THE   ARMY.  27 

iween  you  aud  me,  Tom,  there  will  be  music  in 
Pinchbrook  to-night." 

He  lowered  his  voice,  and  spoke  in  tones  big  with 
mystery  and  heavy  with  importance. 

"  AVhat  do  you  mean?"  asked  Thomas,  his  interest 
:ixcited  by  the  words  and  manner  of  his  brother. 

"'  There  is  fun  ahead." 

^'  Tell  me  what  it's  all  about." 

''You  won't  say  a  Avord  —  will  you?" 

"•  Of  course  I  won't." 

"  Not  to  mother,  I  mean,  most  of  all." 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  Squire  Pemberton  has  been  talking  too  loud  for 
his  own  good." 

"  I  know  that ;  he  Avas  in  the  store  this  forenoon,  and 
Jeff  Davis  himself  is  no  bigger  traitor  than  he  is." 

"  Some  of  the  people  are  going  to  make  him  a  call 
to-night." 

"What  for?" 

"What  do  you  suppose?  Can't  you  see  through  a 
millstone,  Tom,  when  there  is  a  hole  in  it?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"  You  can  come  with  us  if  you  like,  and  then  you 
will  know  all  about  it,"  added  Jolm,  mysteriously. 

"But  what  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"  We  are  going  to  make  him  hoist  the  American 
flag  on  his  house,  or  hang  it  out  of  his  window." 


28  "^^E    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

*'  Well,  suppose  he  won't." 

"  Then  we'll  hang  him  where  the  flag  ought  to  be 
We'll  pull  the  house  -down  over  his  head." 

"  I'm  with  you,  Jack,"  replied  Thomas,  with  en. 
thusiasm. 

"  We  won't  have  a  traitor  in  Pinchbrook.  If  w« 
can't  cure  him,  we'll  ride  him  on  a  rail  out  of  the 
town." 

"  I  don't  know  as  you  and  I  ought  to  get  into  tliis 
scrape,"  added  Thomas,  thoughtfully. 

"Why  not?" 

"  You  know  the  squire  has  a  mortgage  on  our 
house,  and  he  may  get  ugly." 

''  Let  him,  if  he  likes.  I'm  not  going  to  tolerate  a 
traitor  because  he  has  a  mortgage  on  my  father's 
house.  Besides,  that  is  a  fair  business  transaction ; 
the  squire  gets  his  interest." 

"  Mother  is  afraid  of  him,  as  she  is  of  the  evil 
epirit." 

*'  Women  are  always  timid,"  said  John,  sagely. 

*' By  George!  tliere  comes  the  very  man  himself!" 
exclaimed  Thomas,  as  he  discovered  a  horse  and 
chaise  sloAvly  approaching. 

"So  it  is ;  that  old  chaise  looks  rather  the  worse 
for  the  wear.  It  looks  as  though  it  had  been  through 
the  wars." 

The  vehicle    did    bear  very  evident    marks  of   hard 


TO^f   SOME  Its    /A'    THE    ARMY.  ^9 

usage.  One  of  the  shafts  Avas  broken,  the  dasher 
^Trenched  off,  and  the  top  stove  in.  The  horse  was 
covered  with  mud,  and  limped  badly  from  the  effects 
of  his  fall.  The  broken  shaft  and  the  harness  were 
now  plentifully  adorned  with  ropes  and  old  straps. 
In  fact,  the  catastrophe  had  utterly  ruined  all  claim 
which  the  chaise  ever  might  have  had  to  be  cousid' 
ered  a  "  hahnsome  kerridge." 

"  There'll  be  fun  nearer  home,  I  reckon,"  said 
John,  as  he  obtained  his  first  view  of  the  sour  visage 
of  the  squire. 

"  Can't  help  it,"    added  Thomas. 

"  Keep  a  stiff  upper  lip,  Tom." 

'^  I  intend  to  do  so." 

"  Don't  say  a  word  about  to-night,  Tom." 

"  Of  course  not." 

When  the  chaise  had  approached  near  enough  to 
enable  the  squire  to  recognize  the  author  of  his  mis- 
fortunes, he  stopped  the  horse,  and  got  out  of  the 
vehicle,  with  the  whip  in  his  hand. 

'*  Now,  you  young  scoundrel,  I  will  teach  you  to 
insult  me  and  my  son,  and  destroy  my  property. 
Stay  in  the  chaise,  Fred,  and  hold  the  horse,"  he 
added  to  his  son. 

But  there  was  not  much  need  of  holding  the  horse 
now,  for  he  was  too  lame  to  run  fast  or  far.  Thomas 
and  John  came  to  a  halt  ;  and  if  the  squire  had  been 


30  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

a  prudent  man,  he  might  have  seen  by  the  flash  of 
their  eyes,  that  he  was  about  to  engage  in  an  unsafe 
operation. 

^'  I  am  going  to  horsewhip  you  within  an  inch  of 
your  life,  you  vilhiin,  you  !  "  roared  the  squire,  bran, 
dishing  the  whip. 

''  No,  you  are  not,"  replied  Thomas,  coolly. 

'•'■  If  you  drop  the  weight  of  that  lash  on  my 
brother,  I'll  smash  your  head,"  added  John. 

The  squire  paused,  and  glanced  at  the  wiry  form 
of  the  young  sailor.  Better  thoughts,  or  at  least  wiser 
ones,  came  to  his  aid. 

"  I  can  bring  you  to  your  senses  in  another  way," 
said  he,  dropping  his  whip,  and  getting  into  the 
chaise  again.  "  You  will  hear  from  me  before  the 
week  is  out." 

''  Let  him  go ;  don't  say  a  word,  Tom,"  added 
John. 

*'  He  Avill  prosecute  me,  I  suppose  he  means  by 
that." 

"  Let  him  prosecute  and  be  hanged !  I'll  bet  by 
to-morrow  morning  he  will  think  better  of  it.  At 
any  rate,  he  will  find  out  what  the  people  of  Pinch' 
brook  think  of  him." 

The  boys  resumed  their  walk,  and  soon  reached 
the  store,  where  they  found  the  group  of  idlers,  that 
always  frequent    shops  in  the    country,  busily  engaged 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE   ARMY.  g) 

in  discussing  the  affair  iu  wliieli  Thomas  had  been 
the  principal  actor.  As  the  boys  entered,  tb<j  hero  of 
the  rinchbrook  Battle  was  saluted  with  a  foUey  of 
applause,  and  his  conduct  fully  approved  au(^  com- 
mended, for  a  copperhead  in  that  day  was  an  t*b^r* 
iuation  to  the  peo^^le. 


THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 


CHAPTER   III. 


TAMING    A    TRAITOR. 


Cy^^^^l  ITH  the  exception  of  Squire  Pemberton, 
Pinchbrook  was  a  tlioroiighU-  loyal  towu  ; 
and  the  jx^ople  felt  that  it  was  a  scandal 
and  a  disgrace  to  have  even  a  single  traitor  within  its 
borders.  The  squire  took  no  pains  to  conceal  his  trea- 
sonable sentiments,  though  the  wliolo  town  was  in  a 
blaze  of  patriotic  excitement.  On  the  contrary,  he  had 
gone  out  of  his  way,  and  taken  a  great  deal  of  pains,  to 
condemn  the  government  and  the  people  of  the  North. 

Squire  Pemberton  was  a  wealthy  man.  and  he  had 
always  been  a  person  of  great  influence  in  the  place. 
He  had  occupied  all  the  principal  official  positions  in 
town  and  county.  He  had  come  to  regard  himself,  as 
his  townsmen  were  for  the  most  part  willing  to  regard 
him,  as  the  social  and  political  oracle  of  the  place. 
What  he  thought  in  town  meeting  was  generally  the 
sense  of  his  fellow-citizens,  and  when  he  expressed 
himself  in  words,  his  word  was  law. 

When,  on  Sunday  morning,  with  Fort  Sumter  in  ruins, 


TO  AT  SOMERS    IX    THE   ARMY.  33 

with  the  national  flag  troddeu  under  the  feet  of  traitors, 
with  the  government  iusidted  and  threatened,  Squire 
Pembertou  ventured  to  speak  in  tones  of  condemnation 
of  the  free  North,  the  people  of  Pinchbrook  listened 
coldly,  at  first,  to  the  sayings  of  their  oracle  ;  and  Avhen 
he  began  to  abuse  the  loyal  spirit  of  the  North,  some 
ventured  to  dissent  from  him.  The  oracle  was  not  in 
the  habit  of  having  men  dissent,  and  it  made  him  angry. 
His  treason  became  more  treasonable,  his  condemnation 
more  bitter.  Plain,  honest  men,  to  whatever  party  they 
might  have  belonged,  were  disgusted  with  the  great  man 
of  Pinchbrook  ;  and  some  of  them  ventured  to  express 
their  disapprobation  of  his  course  in  very  decided  terms. 
Some  were  disposed  to  be  indulgent  because  the  Squire 
had  a  sister  in  Georgia  who  had  married  a  planter.  But 
there  was  not  found  a  single  person,  outside  of  his  o^^'Tl 
family,  who  was  mean  enough  to  uphold  him  in  his 
treacherous  denunciation  of  the  government. 

The  squire  was  too  self-sulhcient  and  opinionated  to 
be  influenced  by  the  advice  of  friends  or  the  warning  of 
those  who  had  suddenly  become  his  enemies.  He  had 
so  often  carried  the  to\\Ti  to  his  own  views,  that,  perhaps, 
he  expected  to  manufacture  a  public  sentiment  in  Pinch- 
brook that  would  place  the  to^^^l  on  the  side  of  the  reb- 
els. All  day  Sunday,  and  all  day  Monday,  he  rode 
about  the  Harbor  preaching  treason.  He  tried  to  con- 
vince the  people  that  the  South  had  all  the  right,  and  the 


g4  THE   SOLDIER   BOY,  OR 

North  all  the  wrong ;  but  he  had  never  found  them    « 
obstinate  and  incredulous  before. 

Towards  night  one  of  the  ministers  ventured  to  sug- 
gest to  him  that  he  was  sowing  the  wind,  and  would 
reap  the  whirlwind.  The  good  man  even  hinted  that  he 
had  roused  a  storm  of  indignation  in  the  town  which  he 
might  find  it  difficult  to  allay. 

The  squire  laughed  at  the  minister,  and  told  him  he 
was  not  afraid  of  any  thing.  He  intended  to  speak  his 
honest  sentiments,  as  every  citizen  had  a  right  to  do ; 
and  he  would  like  to  see  any  man,  or  any  body  of  men, 
who  would  dare  to  meddle  Avith  him. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  will  see  them.  Squire  Pemberton," 
added  the  minister. 

"  Let  them  come  where  they  please  and  when  they 
please." 

"  What  will  you  do  ?  "Wliat  is  your  single  arm  against 
scores  of  strong  men  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  perhaps,  but  I  don't  fear  them.  I  am  true 
to  my  convictions  ;  why  need  I  fear  ?  " 

*'  I  think  your  convictions,  as  yon  call  them,  are  de 
luding  you.      Do  you  think  Benedict  Arnold's  convic 
tions,  if  he  had  any,  would  have  saved  his  neck  from  the 
halter?" 

"  Do  you  mean  to  compare  me  to  Benedict  Arnold, 
sir?"  ' 

"  I  came  to  you,  as  a  friend,  to  warn  y^u  of  impending 

H 


TOM    SOMERS    IN    THE    ARMY.  35 

danger  ;  and,  as  your  friend,  I  am  compelled  to  say  that 
I  don't  see  much  diiference  between  your  position  and 
that  of  Benedict  Arnold." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  insult  me  ?  " 

"Not  at  all,  sir.  I  was  only  expressing  my  honest 
conviction.  Instead  of  placing  yourself  on  tlie  side  of 
your  government,  on  the  side  of  law  and  order,  you  are 
ffoin<ir  about  Pinchbrook  Harbor  denouncing  the  legiti- 
mate  government  of  your  country,  and  pleading  the  cause 
of  rebels  and  traitors." 

"  Am  I  not  at  liberty  to  say  what  I^lease  of  the  gov- 
ernment ?  " 

*'  In  ordinary  times,  you  are.  Just  now,  the  country 
is  in  a  state  of  war,  and  he  w^ho  is  not  for  the  flag  is 
against  it.  You  may  criticise  the  government  as  its 
friend,  but  not  as  its  foe.  When  armed  men  conspire 
against  the  peace  of  the  land,  he  w^ho  pleads  their  cause 
is  a  traitor  —  nay,  sir,  don't  be  angry ;  these  are  my 
convictions." 

"  Political  parsons  have  been  the  ruin  of  the  country," 
sneered  the  squire.     "  That  is  my  conviction." 

"  Squire  Pemberton,  I  beg  you  not  to  be  rash.  If  you 
must  cherish  these  pernicious  views,  I  entreat  you,  keep 
them  to  yourself.  You  may  think  what  you  please,  but 
the  utterance  of  treason  makes  a  traitor." 

"  I  shall  proclaim  my  views  from  the  housetop,"  re« 
plied  tlie  squire,  angrily,  as  he  abruptly  turned  away 
from  the  minister. 


86 


THE   SOLDIER    BOJ,  OR 


The  squire  continued  obdurate  to  the  hist.  Neither 
the  persuasions  of  his  friends  nor  the  threats  of  liis  ene- 
mies had  any  effect  in  silencing  his  tongue  ;  and  as  hite 
as  sundown  on  that  day  of  the  Great  Awakening  he  was 
pouring  treachery  and  treason  into  the  ears  of  a  neigh- 
bor who  happened  to  pass  his  house.  Half  an  hour  later 
in  the  day,  there  was  a  great  gathering  of  men  and  boys 
at  the  bridge  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village.  They  were 
singing  Hail  Columbia  and  the  Star-spangled  Banner. 
Thomas  and  John  Somers  Avere  there. 
/  Presently  the  assemblage  began  to  move  up  the  road 
which  led  to  Squire  Peraberton's  house,  singing  patriotic 
sonjzs  as  they  marched.  It  Avas  a  multitude  of  persons 
for  Pinchbrook ;  and  no  doubt  the  obnoxious  oracle 
thought  so  when  he  saw  the  sea  of  heads  that  sur- 
rounded his  dwelling.  If  this  was  a  mob,  it  was  cer- 
tainly a  very  orderly  mob,  for  the  crowd  thus  far  had 
done  nothing  worse  than  to  sing  the  national  airs. 

The  arrangements  had  all  been  made  before  the  multi- 
tude started  from  the  place  of  rendezvous.  Three  gen- 
tlemen, the  principal  of  whom  was  Captain  Barney,  had 
been  appointed  a  committee  to  wait  upon  the  squire,  and 
politely  request  him  to  display  the  American  flag  on  his 
premises. 

In  the  road,  in  front  of  the  house,  a  large  fire  had 
been  kindled,  which  threw  a  broad,  bright  glare  on  the 
bouse  and  the  surrounding  grounds.     It  was  as  light  as 


TOM   SOMERS   IN    THE    ARMY.  37 

day  in  the  vicinity  Avhen  the  committee  walked  up  to  the 
front  door  of  the  house  and  rang  the  bell.  The  squire 
answered  the  summons  liimself. 

"  Squire  Pembcrton,"  said  Captain  Barney,  "  your  fel- 
low-citizens, about  two  hundred  in  number,  liave  called 
upon  you  with  a  simple  and  reasonable  request." 

"What  is  it?"  demanded  the  squire. 

"  That  you  hoist  the  Stars  and  Stripes  on  your 
house." 

"  I  won't  do  it ! "  roared  the  victim,  as  he  plamnaed 
the  door  in  the  faces  of  the  committee. 

"  That  is  insolence,"  said  Captain  Barney,  quietly. 
"  We  will  go  in." 

The  captain  led  the  way ;  but  the  door  had  been 
locked  upon  them.  The  shoulders  of  three  stout  men 
pressed  against  it,  and  the  bolt  yielded. 

"What  do  you  mean,  you  villains?"  thundered  the 
gquire,  as  he  confronted  the  committee  in  the  entry. 

"•  You  were  so  impolite  as  to  close  the  door  in  our 
faces  before  we  had  finished  our  story,"  replied  the  im- 
movable old  sea  captain. 

"How  dare  you  break  in  my  door?"  growled  the 
squire. 

"We  shall  do  worse  than  that,  squire,  if  you  don't 
treat  us  respectfully." 

"  A  man's  house  is  his  castle,"  added   the  squire,  a 
little  more  moderately. 
4 


58  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

"  That's  very  good  law,  but  there  isn't  a  house  in 
Pinchbrook  that  is  big  enough  or  str^g  enougli  to  shield 
a  traitor  from  the  indignation  of  his  fellow-citizens.  We 
^  not  purpose  to  harm  you  or  your  property  if  you  be- 
have like  a  reasonable  man." 

"  You  shall  sutFer  for  this  outrage,"  gasped  the  squire, 
whose  rage  was  increased  by  the  cool  and  civil  manner 
of  Captain  Barney. 

"  When  you  closed  the  door  in  my  face,  I  had  inti- 
mated that  your  fellow-citizens  wish  you  to  display  the 
national  flag."  ^      t 

"  I  refuse  to  do  it,  sir." 
#.    *'  Consider,  squire,  what  you  say.      The  people  have 
.  made  up  their  minds  not  to  tolerate  a  traitor  within  the 
,-  corporate  limits  of  the  towfi  of  Pinchbrook." 

"  I  am  po  traitor." 
«     "  That  is  precisely  what  we  wish  you  to  demonstrate 
to  your  fellow-chizen?  assembled  outside  to  witness  an 
exhibition  of  your  patriotism." 

"  I  will  not  do  it  on  compulsion." 

^'  Then,  sir,  we  shall  be  obliged  to  resort  to  disagreea^ 
ble  measures." 

'*  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  sir?"  asked  the  squire, 
who  was  evidently  alarmed  by  the  threat.  "  Do  you. 
.ipean  to  preceded  to  violence?^ 

"We  do,  Squire  Pemberton,"  answered  Captain  Bar- 
oey,  decidedly. 


TOM  HOMERS   IN    THE   ARMY,  §<) 

**  O  my  country  !  "  sighed  the  victim,  "  has  it  come  to 
this?     The  Jaws  wil^uo  longer  protect  her  citizens." 

"  That's  •s'ery  fine,  sir.  Do  you  expect  the  hiws  to 
protect  you  while  you  arc  aiding  and  abetting  those  wlifV 
are  trying  to  destroy  them?  Is  there  any  law  to  protect 
a  traitor  in  his  treason?  But  we  waste  time,  Squire 
Pemberton.     Will  you  display  the  American  flag?" 

"  Suppose  I  refuse?"  ' 

"  AVe  will  pull  your  house  down  over  your  head.  We 
w^ill  give  you  a  coat  of  tar  and  feathers,  and  remove 
you  beyond  the  limits  of  the  town.  If  you  ever  come 
back,  we  will  hang  you  to  the  nearest  tree." 

"  Good  Heaven !  Is  it  possible  that  my  fellow-citi- 
zens are  assassins  —  incendiaries  !  " 

"  Your  answer,  squire." 

"  For  mercy's  sake,  husband,  do  what  they  ask,"  inter- 
posed his  wife,  who  had  been  an  anxious  listener  in  the 
adjoining  room. 

"I  must  do  it,"  groaned  the  squire,  speaking  the 
truth  almost  for  the  first  time  in  forty-eight  hours. 
"  Alas  !  where  is  our  boasted  liberty  of  speecj^  !  " 

"  Fudge  !  squire,"  replied  Captain  Barney,  contempt- 
uously. "  If  your  friend  Jeff  Davis  should  come  to 
Massachusetts  to-mor'ow,  to  preach  a  crusade  against 
the  North,  and  to  raise  an  army  to  destroy  the  free  insti- 
tutions of  the  country,  I  suppose  you  think  it  would  be 
an  outrage  upon  free  speech  to  put  him  down.  Wy 
donH  think  so.     Up  with  the  flag,  squire." 


40  THE    SOLDIER    B  O  Y ,  O  R 

"  Fred,  you  may  hang  the  flag  out  at  the  front  wiiv 
dow  up  stairs,"  said  the  squire  to  his  son. 

"  All  right,  squire.  Now  a  few  words  more,  and  wo 
bid  }ou  good  night.  You  may  tlunk  what  you  please, 
but  if  you  utter  another  Avord  of  treason  in  Pinchbrook 
during  the  term  of  your  natural  life,  the  party  outside 
will  carry  out  the  rest  of  the  programme." 

By  this  time  Fred  Pemberton  had  fastened  the  flag  to 
one  of  his  mother's  clothes  poles,  and  suspended  it  out 
of  the  window  over  the  porch.  It  was  hailed  with  three 
tremendous  cheers  by  the  multitude  who  were  in  waiting 
to  discipline  the  squire,  and  exorcise  the  evil  spirit  of 
treason  and  secession. 

The  work  of  the  evening  was  finished,  not  wholly  to 
the  satisfaction,  perhaps,  of  a  portion  of  the  younger 
members  of  the  assemblage,  who  would  gladly  have 
joined  in  the  work  of  pillage  and  destruction,  but  much 
to  the  gratification  of  the  older  and  steadier  portion  of 
the  crowd,  who  were  averse  to  violent  proceedings. 


TOM    SOMERS   2^    THE   AJiMT.  4\ 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE    COMMITTEE    COME    OUT,  AND    TOM    GOES   IN. 

f^|r^'^  HILE  the  committee  which  the  loyal  citi. 
zens  of  Pinchbrook  had  appointed  to  con- 
duct their  case  with  Squire  Pemberton 
were  in  the  house,  engaged  in  bringing  the  traitor  to 
terms,  the  younger  members  of  the  assemblage  were 
very  impatient  to  know  ?  ^jw  matters  were  progi-essing. 
Thomas  Somers  was  particularly  anxious  to  have  the 
affair  brought  to  a  crisis.  In  vain  he  and  a  few  other 
of  the  young  loyalists  attempted  to  obtain  a  vieAV  of  th« 
interior  of  the  house,  where  the  exciting  interview  was 
in  progress. 

Captain  Barney,  on  shore  as  well  as  at  sea,  was  a 
thorough  disciplinarian.  Of  course,  he  was  aware  that 
his  proceedings  were  technically  illegal ;  that  in  forcing 
himself  into  the  house  of  the  squire  he  was  breaking 
the  law  of  the  land ;  but  it  seemed  to  him  to  be  one  of 
those  cases  where  prompt  action  was  necessary,  and  the  law 
was  too  tardy  to  be  of  any  service.  He  was,  however, 
determined  that  the  business  should  be  done  with  a» 
4*' 


4i  THE    SOLDIER    B  O  T ,  O It 

little  violence*  as  possible,  and  he  had  instructed  the  citi 
zens  at  the  britlge  to  do  no  needless  injury  to  the  prop- 
erty or  the  feelings  of  the  squire  or  his  family. 

When  he  entered  the  house,  he  had  statioced  thre« 
men  at  the  door  to  prevent  any  of  the  people  from  fol- 
lowing him.  He  had  also  directed  ihem  not  to  enter  the 
yard  or  grounds  of  the  house  until  he  gave  the  signal. 
These  directions  proved  a  great  hardship  to  the  boys  in 
the  crowd,  and  they  were  completely  disgusted  when 
they  saw  the  flag  thrown  loose  from  the  front  wiudow. 

The  mansion  of  Squire  Pemberton  -was  an  old-fHsh- 
ioned  dwelling,  about  a  hundred  feet  from  the  road.  In 
front  of  it  was  a  green  lawn,  adorned  with  several  large 
buttonwood  trees.  There  was  no  fence  to  enclose  what 
was  called  the  front  yard.  The  crowd  was  assembled 
on  this  lawn,  and  agreeably  to  the  directions  of  the 
leader,  or  chairman  of  tlie  commit  lee,  none  of  them 
passed  into  the  yard  in  the  rear  and  at  the  end  of  the 
house,  which  was  separated  from  the  lawn  by  a  picket 
fence. 

Boys  are  instinctively  curious  to  know  Avhat  is  going 
on,  and  tlie  "living  room"  of  t.lic  squire,  in  which  th« 
exciting  conversation  was  takiug  place,  was  in  the  real 
of  the  house.  The  window^s  on  the  front  were  dark  and 
uncommunicative.  Tlie  boys  were  restless  and  impa- 
tient ;  if  there  was  to  be  any  fuu,  they  Avanted  to  see  it. 
Thomas  was  as  impatient  as  his  fellows,  and  being  morf 


TOM  SOMERS    IN    THE   ARMY.  45 

enterprising  than  the  others,  he  determined,  -while  obey- 
ing the  instructions  of  Captain  Barney  in  the  spirit,  to 
disobey  them  in  the  letter. 

He  had  been  a  sufferer  to  the  extent  of  two  great 
wales  on  the  calves  of  his  legs  by  the  treason  of  the 
squire,  and  no  doubt  he  thought  he  ought  to  be  regarded 
as  an  exception  to  those  who  w^ere  called  on  to  observe 
the  instructions  of  the  chairman  of  the  committee. 
Leaving  the  group  of  inquiring  minds  near  the  front 
door  of  the  house,  he  walked  do^^^l  the  driveway  till  he 
came  to  a  rail  fence,  through  which  he  crawled,  and  en- 
tered the  field  adjoining  the  garden  of  the  squire.  His 
fellow-citizens,  men  and  boys,  were  too  intently  watching 
the  house  to  heed  him,  and  no  one  noticed  his  enterpris 
ing  movement. 

From  the  field,  he  entered  the  garden,  and  made  his 
way  to  the  rear  of  the  house.  But  even  here,  he  was 
doomed  to  disappointment,  for  Mrs.  Pemberton  had 
drawn  her  curtains.  Our  hero  was  not,  however,  to  be 
utterly  defeated,  and  as  the  curtains  had  not  been  fitted 
by  an  accomplished  upholsterer,  there  were  openings  on 
cither  side,  through  w^hich  he  might  command  a  full 
view  of  the  interior  of  the  room. 

Thomas  proceeded  slowly  and  cautiously  to  obtain  a 
position  which  would  enable  liim^to  gratify  his  curiosity, 
and  witness  the  humiliation  of  the  haughty  squire.  Be- 
neath the  window,  which  he  had  chosen  to  look  through, 


44  THE   SOLD  J  En    BOY,  OR 

there  was  a  cellar  door,  from  which  a  pile  of  seaweed, 
placed  upon  it  to  keep  the  frost  out  of  thfe  cellar,  had 
just  been  removed.  The  adventurous  inquirer  crept  up 
the  slippery  boards,  and  gained  the  coveted  position.  He 
could  not  only  see  the  committee  and  the  squire,  but  he 
could  hear  all  they  said.  He  was  perfectly  delighted 
with  the  manner  in  which  the  captain  put  the  question  to 
the  squire  ;  and  when  the  latter  ordered  Fred  to  hang  out 
the  flag,  he  was  a  little  disposed  to  imitate  the  masculine 
occupants  of  the  hen-house,  a  short  distance  from  his 
perch  ;  but  Tom,  as  Ave  have  before  intimated,  had  a 
very  tolerable  idea  of  tlie  principles  of  strategy,  and  had 
the  self-possession  to  hold  his  tongue,  and  permit  the 
triumphant  scene  within  to  pass  without  a  crow  or  a 
cheer. 

The  battle  had  been  fought  and  the  victory  won  ;  and 
though  Tom  felt  that  lie  Avas  one  of  the  victors,  he 
deemed  it  prudent,  for  strategical  reasons,  to  commence 
a  retreat.  The  cellar  doors,  as  Ave  have  before  hinted, 
Avere  very  slippery,  haA'ing  been  thoroughly  soaked  Avith 
moisture  Avhile  covered  Avith  the  seaweed.  When  the 
hero  of  this  unauthorized  reconnoissance  AA'heeled  about 
to  commence  his  retreat,  his  feet  incontinently  slipped  up 
upon  the  inclined  surface  of  the  doors,  and  he  camo 
doA\Ti  lieaA'ily  upon  the  rotten  boards.  This,  in  itself, 
would  have  been  but  an  inconsiderable  disaster,  and  ha 
might  still  haA^e  AA^'thdraAATi  from  the  inconvenient  local- 


TOM   SO  ME  Its    IX    THE   ARMY.  45 

ity,  if  circumstauces  had  not  couspired  against  him,  as 
circumstances  sometimes  will,  when  they  ought  to  bo 
conciliatory  and  accommodating.  The  force  whh  which 
Tom  fell  upon  the  decayed  boards  was  too  much  for 
them,  and  the  unlucky  adventurer  became  another  victim 
to  the  treachery  of  rotten  wood,  which  has  hurled  so 
many  thousands  from  time  into  eternity. 

But  Tom  was  not  hurled  so  far  as  that  on  the  present 
occasion,  though  for  all  practical  purposes,  for  the  suc- 
ceeding half  hour,  he  might  as  well  have  been  a  hundred 
fathoms  under  water,  or  beneath  the  wreck  of  a  twenty- 
ton  locomotive  at  the  bottom  of  the  river.  That  cellar 
door  was  a  bad  place  to  f\ill  through,  which  may  be  ac- 
counted for  on  the  supposition  that  it  was  not  made  to 
fall  through.  In  his  downward  progress,  Tom  had  un- 
luckily struck  his  head  against  the  side  of  the  house  ;  and 
when  he  landed  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  he  was  ut- 
terly oblivious  to  all  distinctions  between  treason  and 
loyalty.  Tom  was  not  killed,  I  need  not  inform  the 
ingenious  reader,  or  this  would  otherwise  have  been  the 
last  chapter  of  the  story  ;  but  the  poor  fellow  did  not 
know  whether  he  was  dead  or  alive. 

In  fact,  he  had  not  sense  enough  left  to  consider  the 
question  at  all ;  for  there  he  lay,  in  the  gloom  of  the  trai- 
tor's dark  cellar,  silent  and  motionless  —  a  solemn  warn- 
ing to  all  our  young  readers  of  the  folly  and  wickedness 
of  indulging  an  illegal  and  sinful  curiosiiy.    It  may  seem 


46  THE   SOLDIER   BOY,  OR 

cruel  and  inhuman  in  us  to  forsake  poor  Tom  in  this  sad 
plight ;  but  we  must,  nevertheless,  go  up  stairs,  in  order 
that  the  sufferer  may  be  duly  and  properly  relieved  iu 
due  and  proper  season. 

When  the  committee  of  three,  appointed  by  the  indig* 
nant  loyalists  of  Pinchbrook,  had  completed  their  mis- 
sion in  the  house  of  the  squire,  like  sensible  men  they 
proposed  to  leave  ;  and  they  so  expressed  themselves, 
through  their  spokesman,  to  the  unwilling  host.  They 
put  their  hats  on,  and  moved  into  the  front  entry,  whither 
they  were  followed  by  the  discomfited  traitor.  They  had 
scarcely  left  the  room  before  a  tremeujlous  crash  greeted 
the  cars  of  that  portion  of  the  family  which  remained  in 
the  apartment.  This  was  the  precise  moment  at  which 
poor  Tom  Somers  found  himself  on  the  bottom  of  the 
cellar ;  or,  to  be  entirely  accurate,  when  he  lost  himself 
on  the  bottom  of  the  cellar. 

Mrs.  Pemberton  heard  the  crash,  and  she  very  natu- 
rally concluded  that  the  hour  of  retribution  had  actually 
come  ;  that  the  terrible  mob  had  commenced  the  work  of 
destruction.  To  her  "fear-amazed"  mind  it  seemed  as 
though  the  whole  side  of  the  house  had  fallen  in,  and,  for 
a  moment,  she  confidently  expected  the  chimneys  would 
presently  go  by  the  board,  and  the  roof  come  thundering 
down  upon  the  devoted  heads  of  her  outraged  family. 
Perhaps,  at  that  terrible  moment,  she  wished  her  huS' 
band  had  been  like  other  women's  husbands,  a  true  and 


TOM    SO  ML  US    IX    'JUL'    JHMY.  47 

loyal  man,  cheering  the  old  flag,  and  hurling  harmless 
anathemas  at  the  graceless  rebels. 

But  the  chimney  did  not  go  by  the  board,  nor  the  roof 
come  thundering  down  upon  her  head.  There  was  not 
even  a  sound  of  destruction  to  be  heard,  and  the  sides  of 
the  house  seemed  to  be  firm  and  decided  in  their  inten- 
tion to  maintain  their  perpendicular  position.  A  fe\Y 
minutes  later,  when  the  committee  announced  to  the  mul- 
titude the  success  of  their  undertaking,  and  Fred  had  dis- 
played the  flag  from  the  window,  peal  upon  peal  of  stun- 
ning huzzas  saluted  her  ears,  and  the  awful  peril  of  the 
preceding  moments  appeared  to  be  averted.  The  squire, 
having  closed  and  barricaded  the  broken  door  as  well  as 
he  could,  returned  to  the  room,  with  curses  deep  and  bit- 
ter upon  his  lips.  He  was  not  in  the  habit  of  swearing, 
but  the  magnitude  of  the  occasion  seemed  to  justify  the 
innovation,  and  he  swore  hugely,  roundly,  awfully.  He 
paced  the  room,  ground  his  teeth,  and  stamped  upon  the 
floor. 

"  Father,  did  you  hear  that  terrible  racket  just  now?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Pemberton.  ''  1  thought  the  side  of  the 
house  had  fallen  in." 

"What  racket?"  demanded  the  squire,  pausing  in  his 
excited  walk. 

"  I  am  sure  they  have  broken  something." 

*'  It  sounded  as  though  it  was  down  cellar,"  added  Su 
Pan,  the  daughter. 


^g  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

"  What  was  it  ?  "  asked  the  father. 

^'  I  don't  know.  It  sounded  like  breaking  boards. 
Do  go  down  cellar,  and  find  out  what  it  was." 

"  The  scoundrels  !  "  roared  the  squire,  as  he  rushed  up 
and  do^^^l  the  room  aprain  with  the  fury  of  a  madman, 
"  I'U  teach  them  to  break  into  my  house  !  " 

"  Be  calm,  father,"  interposed  Mrs.  Pemberton,  who, 
like  most  New  England  mothers,  called  her  husband  by 
the  title  which  belonged  exclusively  to  the  children. 

"Calm?  How  can  I  be  calm?  Don't  you  hear  the 
ruffians  shout  and  yell  ?  " 

"  They  are  only  cheering  the  flag." 

The  squire  muttered  a  malediction  upon  the  flag, 
which  would  probably  have  procured  for  him  a  coat  of 
tar  and  feathers,  if  the  mob  had  heard  it.  Mrs.  Pem- 
berton was  silent,  for  she  had  never  seen  her  husband  so 
moved  before.  She  permitted  him  to  pace  the  room  in 
his  frenzy  till  his  anger  had,  in  some  measure,  subsided. 

"  I  wish  you  would  go  down  cellar  and  find  out  what 
that  noise  was,"  said  Mrs.  Pemberton,  as  soon  as  she 
dared  to  speak  again.  ''  Perhaps  some  of  them  are 
down  there  now.  Who  knows  but  they  will  set  the 
house  afire." 

Squire  Pemberton  was  startled  by  this  suggestion,  and. 
seizing  the  lamp,  he  rushed  down  cellar  to  prevent  so  dire 
a  calamity. 


TOM    SOMhJib'   JX    THE   AJiAfi.  ^j 


CHAPTER   V. 


THE    ATTIC    CHAMBER. 


QUIRE  PEMBERTON  rushed  down  cellar. 
He  was  very  much  excited,  and  forgot  tliat 
he  had  beeu  troubled  with  the  rheumatism 
during  the  preceding  winter.  When  he  opened  the 
cellar  door,  he  was  considerably  relieved  to  find  that 
no  brilliant  light  saluted  his  expectant  gaze.  It  Avas 
as  cold  and  dark  in  the  cellar  as  it  had  been  when 
he  sorted  over  the  last  of  his  Warren  Russets,  a  few 
days  before. 

It  was  certain,  therefore,  that  the  house  was  not 
on  fire  ;  and,  invigorated  by  this  thought,  he  descended 
the  stairs.  A  strong  current  of  fresh,  cold  air  extin- 
guished the  light  he  carried.  As  this  was  contrary  to 
his  usual  experience  Avhen  he  Avent  down  cellar  in  tlie 
evening  after  an  apple  or  a  mug  of  cider,  it  assured 
him  that  there  was  a  screw  loose  somewhere.  Re- 
turning to  the  room  above,  he  procured  a  lantern, 
and  proceeded  to  the  cellar  again  to  renew  his  in- 
Testigations. 

5 


^  THE    SOLDIER    B  U  l\    US 

The  squire  felt  the  cold  blast  of  the  April  air,  an^ 
immediately  made  his  way  to  the  cellar  door,  holding 
the  lantern  up  as  high  as  his  head,  to  ascertain  the 
nature  of  the  mischief  which  the  fanatical  abolitionists 
had  perpetrated.  He  saw  that  the  cellar  door  was 
broken  through.  The  rotten  boards  lay  upon  the 
steps,  and  with  another  malediction  upon  the  mob,  he 
placed  the  lantern  upon  a  barrel,  and  proceeded  to  re- 
pair the  damage.  As  he  stepped  forward,  he  stum- 
bled against  the  body  of  the  enterprising  hero  of  this 
volume,  who  lay  as  calm  and  still  as  a  sleeping  child. 

The  squire  started  back,  not  a  little  alarmed  at  the 
sight  of  the  motionless  body.  lie  felt  as  though  a 
terrible  retribution  had  fallen  upon  somebody,  who 
lad  been  killed  in  the  act  of  attempting  to  destroy  his 
property.  Seizing  his  lantern,  he  retreated  to  the 
cellar  stairs  by  which  he  had  descended,  and  stood 
there  for  a  moment,  his  tongue  paralyzed,  and  his 
knees  smiting  each  other,  in  the  agony  of  terror. 

We  do  not  know  Avhat  he  was  afraid  of,  but  we 
suppose  that  instinctive  dread  Avhich  some  people  mani- 
fest in  the  presence  of  death,  had  completely  overcome 
him.  Certainly  there  was  nothing  to  be  afraid  ofr 
for  a  dead  man  is  not  half  so  likely  to  do  a  person 
an  injury  as  a  living  one.  But  in  a  few  minutes 
Squire  Pemberton  in  some  measure  recovered  his  seif- 
possessioEi. 


TOAf   SOMEJiS    I\    THE    ARMY.  5^ 

''  There  is  a  dead  man  down  here  !  "  he  called  up 
the  staircase,  iu  quaking  tones. 

''  Mercy  on  us  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Pemberton.  "Who 
is  he?" 

"I  don't  knoAv,"    replied  the  squire. 

"  Look  and  see  Avho  it  is,  father,"  added  Mrs. 
Pemberton.     "  Perhaps  he  isn't  dead." 

"  Stone  dead,"  persisted  the  squire.  "  He  fell  into 
the  cellar  and  broke  liis  neck." 

"Go  and  see  who  it  is  ^  will  yon?" 

"  Well,  you  come  down  and  hold  the  light,"  said 
the  squire,  mIio  was  not  quite  willing  to  say  that  he 
was  scared  out  of  his  wits. 

Mrs.  Pemberton  descended  the  stairs,  followed  by 
Susan  and  Fred,  who  had  just  returned  from  the  front 
window,  where  he  had  exhibited  the  flag,  which  tha 
crowd  outside  were  still  cheerin"-. 

"Who  can  it  be?"  continued  the  old  lady,  as  slie 
slowly  and  cautiously  walked  forward  to  the  scene  of 
the  catastrophe. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  the  squire,  iu  whom  the 
presence  of  his  family  had  spurred  up  a  semblance  of 
courage  ;  for  if  a  man  ever  is  brave,  it  is  in  the  pres- 
ence of  his  wife  and  children.  "  If  it  is  one  of  tlie 
ruffians  who  came  here  to  destroy  my^  house,  I  am 
glad  he  has  lost  his  life  in  the  attempt.  It  is  a 
righteous  retribution  upon  him  for  his  wickedness.** 


52 


THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 


Mrs.  Pemberton  took  the  lantern,  and  the  squire, 
still  excited  and  terrified,  bent  over  the  prostrate  form 
of  the  young  marauder.  The  victim  lay  upon  his 
face,  and  the  squire  had  to  tura  him  over  to  obtain 
a  view  of  his  countenance. 

"  I  declare  it  is  one  of  the  Somers  boys  !  "  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Pemberton,  as  her  husband  brought  the  face  of 
Thomas  to  her  view. 

"  The  young  villain  !  "  ejaculated  the  squire.  "  It 
is  lucky  he  was  killed,  or  the  house  would  have  been 
in  flames  before  this  time.  He  is  a  desperate  young 
scoundrel." 

"  But  he  isn't  dead,  father  !  "  said  Mrs.  Pemberton, 
as  she  knelt  upon  the  cold  gi'ouud,  and  felt  the  pulse 
of  the  insensible  boy.     "  He  is  only  stunned." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  it.  If  it  had  killed  him,  it  would 
have  served  him  right,"  added  the  squire,  who  had  sud- 
denly become  as  bold  as  a  lion — as  bold  as  two  lions. 

"  Come,  father,  let's  carry  liira  up  stairs,  and  put 
him  to  bed." 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  going  to  do  any  thing  for  this 
young  scoundrel !  "  exclaimed  the  squire,  indignantly. 
"  Why,  he  stoned  Fred  and  me  to-day,  and  stoned  the 
horse,  and  made  him  run  away  and  break  the  chaise 
all  to  pieces." 

'•  But  we  mustn't  leave  him  here  in  this  situation. 
ilQ  may  die." 


TOIf  SOAfERS    IX    THE    ARMT.  ^g 

*'  Let  him  die." 

''But  what  will  folks  say?" 

The  more  humaue  wife  evidently  understood  the 
weak  point  of  the  squire,  for  nothing  but  slavery  and 
the  Southern  Confederacy  could  have  induced  him  tc 
set  at  defiance  the  public  sentiment  of  Pinchbrook. 

"  Well,  carry  him  up  stairs  then ;  but  he  never  will 
get  out  of  my  house  till  he  has  been  severely  pun- 
ished for  his  crimes." 

Tlie  squire  and  Fred  took  hold  of  the  senseless  form 
©f  poor  Tom,  and  carried  it  up  stairs,  where  it  was 
placed  upon  the  sofa  in  the  sitting  room.  Mrs.  Pem- 
berton  had  the  reputation  of  being  "  an  excellent  hand 
in  sickness,"  and  she  immediately  applied  herself  to 
the  duty  of  restoring  the  sufferer  to  consciousness. 

"  Don't  you  think  you  had  better  go  after  the  doc- 
tor, ftither?"  asked  the  good  Avoman.  "Some  of  his 
bones  may  be  broken,  or  he  may  be  injured  inwardly." 

"  I  shall  not  go  for  any  doctor,"  snarled  the  squire. 
"  Do  you  think  I  will  trust  myself  out  doors  while 
that  howling  mob  is  hanging  round  the  house  ?  " 

"  Fred  can  go,"  suggested  Susan. 

"  He  can,  but  he  shall  not,"  growled  the  squire, 
throwing  himself  into  his  arm  chair  in  the  corner,  with 
an  appearance  of  indifference  and  unconcern,  which  wer* 
far  from  representing  the  actual  state  of  his  mind. 

Mrs.  Pemberton  said  no  more,  but  she  and  Sus«u 
5* 


54  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

went  to  work  upon  the  sufferer  with  camphor  and 
hartshorn  in  good  earnest,  and  in  a  short  time  they 
had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  open  his  eyes.  They 
continued  the  treatment  for  some  time  longer,  with 
the  most  satisfactory  resuh,  till  Tom  astonished  them 
by  jumping  off  the  sofa,  and  standing  up  in  the  middle 
of  the  room.  He  rubbed  his  forehead,  hunched  up  his 
left  shoulder,  and  felt  of  his  shins. 

"Are  you  hurt,  Thomas?"  asked  Mrs.  Pemberton, 
with  more  of  tenderness  in  her  tones  than  the  scpiire 
deemed  proper  for  the  occasion. 

"  No,  marm,  I  guess  not,"  replied  Tom.  "  My 
shoulder  feels  a  little  stiff,  and  I  think  I  barked  one 
of  my  sliins ;  but  I  shall  be  as  good  as  new  by  to- 
norrow." 

But  there  was  an  ugly  bump  on  the  side  of  his  head, 
which  he  had  not  yet  discovered,  but  which  Susan 
pointed  out  to  him.  He  acknowledged  the  bump,  but 
declared  it  was  only  a  little  sore,  and  would  be  all 
right  by  the  next  day. 

"  I  feel  pretty  well,"  continued  Tom,  "  and  I  guess 
I'll  go  home  now." 

"  I  think  you  won't,  young  man,"  interposed  Squire 
Pemberton. 

Tom  looked  at  him,  and  for  the  first  time  since  he 
had  come  to  himself,  he  remembered  in  what  manner 
he    had    received    his    injuries.      He  immediately  cam* 


TOM  SOME  US   IX    THE   ARMY.  55 

to  the  eouclusiou  that  he  had  got  into  a  bad  scrape. 
He  was  iu  the  house  of,  and  in  the  presence  of,  his  "reat 
enemy.  The  events  of  the  day  passed  iu  rapid  succes- 
sion through  his  mind,  aud  he  could  uot  help  thinking 
that  he  was  destined  to  be  the  first  victim  in  Pinch- 
brook  to  the  war  spirit  which  had  just  been  awakened 
all  over  the  country. 

The  squire  thought  he  would  not  go  home,  which 
was  as  much  as  to  say  he  would  not  let  him  go  home. 
Tom's  wits  were  a  little  confused,  after  the  hard 
knock  he  had  received  upon  the  head,  and  all  he 
could  do  was  to  stand  and  look  at  the  oracle  of  Pinch- 
brook,  and  wait  for  further  developments. 

•"  Young  man,"  said  the  squire,  sternly,  and  in  tones 
that  were  intended  to  make  a  deep  impression  upon  the 
mind  of  the  young  man,    "  your  time  has  come." 

The  squire  paused,  and  looked  at  the  culprit  to  as- 
certain the  effect  of  the  startling  announcement ;  but 
Tom  seemed  to  be  perfectly  cool,  and  was  not  anni- 
hilated by  the  suggestive  remark  of  the  great  man  of 
Pinchbrook. 

•'  You  have  become  a  midnight  marauder,"  added 
the  squire,  poetically. 

"  It  isn't  seven  o'clock  yet,"  said  Tom,  pointing  to 
the  great  wooden  clock  in  the  corner  of  the  room. 

"  You  joined  a  mob  to  pillage  and  destroy  the  prop- 
erty of  a  peaceable  citizen.     You  broke  in " 


56  THE    SOLDI  Eli    HOY,    OR 

"  No,  sir ;  the  cellar  door  broke  in,"  interposed  the 
culprit. 

"  You  broke  into  my  house  to  set  it  afii'e !  "  con- 
tinued the  squire,  in  a  rage. 

"  No,  sir,  I  did  not.  I  only  went  round  there  to  see 
the  fun,"  replied  Tom,  pointing  to  the  rear  of  the  house  ; 
*'  and  the  cellar  door  broke  down  and  let  me  in.  I  did  not 
mean  to  do  you  or  your  house  any  harm  ;  and  I  didn't 
do  any,  except  breaking  the  cellar  door,  and  I  will  have 
that  mended." 

"  Don't  tell  me,  you  young  villain  !  You  meant  to 
burn  my  house." 

"  No,  I  didn't  mean  any  thing  of  the  kind,"  replied 
Tom,  stoutly.  "  I  was  going  off  when  the  door  broke 
do^vn.  The  boards  were  rotten,  and  I  should  think  a 
man  like  you  ought  to  have  better  cellar  doors  than 
those  are." 

The  squire  didn't  relish  this  criticism,  especially  from 
the  source  whence  it  came.  There  was  a  want  of  hu- 
mility on  the  part  of  the  culprit  which  the  magnate  of 
Pinclibrook  thought  would  be  exceedingly  becoming  in  a 
young  man  in  his  situation.  The  absence  of  it  made 
him  more  angry  than  before.  He  stormed  and  hurled 
denunciations  at  the  offender  ;  he  rehearsed  the  mischief 
he  had  done  during  the  day,  and  alluded  in  strong  terms 
^o  that  which  he  intended  to  perpetrate  in  the  "  dead 
watches  of  the  night  "  —  which  was  the  poetical  render- 


TOM  SO  ME  US   iJSr   THE  ARMY.  57. 

ing  of  half  past  six  iu  the  evening ;  for  the  squire  was 
I'ond  of  effective  phrases. 

Tom  ventured  to  hint  that  a  man  who  would  not  stand 
by  his  country  when  her  flag  was  insulted  and  ''  trailed 
in  the  dust  "  —  Tom  had  read  the  daily  papers  —  ought 
to  be  brought  to  his  senses  by  such  expedients  as  his  fel- 
low-citizens might  suggest.  Of  course  this  remark  only 
increased  the  squire's  wrath,  and  he  proceeded  to  pro- 
nounce sentence  upon  the  unlucky  youth,  which  was  that 
he  should  be  taken  to  the  finished  room  in  the  attic,  and 
confined  there  under  bolts  and  bars  till  the  inquisitor 
«?hould  further  declare  and  execute  his  intentions. 

Mrs.  Pemberton  and  Susan  remonstrated  against  this 
sentence,  prudently  suggesting  the  consequences  which 
might  residt  from  detaining  the  boy.  But  the  squire  de- 
clared he  should  not  go  till  he  had  at  least  horsewhipped 
him  ;  and  if  there  was  any  justice  left  in  the  laud,  ho 
would  send  him  to  the  county  jail  in  the  morning. 

Tom  Avanted  to  resist  the  execution  of  his  sentence, 
but  he  was  still  weak  from  the  effects  of  his  fall,  and  he 
could  not  expect  to  vanquisli  both  the  squire  and  his  son  ; 
so,  with  an  earnest  protest,  he  permitted  himself  to  be 
led  to  the  attic  chamber.  The  squire  thrust  him  into 
tlie  room,  and  after  carefully  securing  the  door,  left  our 
hero  to  meditate  upon  the  reverse  of  fortune  which  had 
overtaken  him. 


58  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 


CHAPTER    VL 


THE    AVAY    IS    PREPARED. 


HERE  do  yon  suppose  Thomas  is?"  said 
Mrs.  Somers,  as  she  glauced  at  the  clock, 
which  indicated  half  past  nine. 

'•  I  don't  know,"  replied  John.  ^*  He  can't  be  a  great 
ways  otF.  I  saw  him  in  front  of  the  squire's  house  when 
the  committee  went  in." 

"  The  boy's  gone  down  to  the  Harbor  again  Avith  the 
rest  of  the  folks,  talking  about  the  war,"  added  gran'ther 
Greene,  as  he  rose  from  his  chair,  and  hobbled  into  his 
chamber  adjoining  the  kitchen. 

At  ten  o'clock,  the  mother  began  to  be  a  little  uneasy  ,• 
and  at  eleven,  even  John  had  some  fears  that  all  was  not 
well  v/ith  his  brother.  Neither  of  them  was  able  to  su^- 
gest  any  thing  that  could  possibly  have  happened  to  the 
absentee.  There  had  been  no  battle  fought,  and  so  no- 
body could  have  been  killed.  There  had  been  no  violence 
used  in  the  transactions  of  the  evening  further  than  break- 
ing in  the  front  door  of  Squire  Pemberton,  so  that  it  wa3 
not  easy  to  believe  that  any  accident  had  happened  to  him 


TOM   SO^fERS    IN    THE   ARMY.  59 

John  had  given  a  glowing  account  of  the  proceedings 
at  the  house  of  the  squire,  and  the  family  had  been  much 
interested  and  excited  by  the  stirring  narrative.  His 
mother  was  perfectly  satisfied,  as  no  one  had  been  in- 
jured, and  hoped  the  great  man  of  Pinchbrook  would  be 
brought  to  his  senses.  All  these  topics  had  been  fully 
discussed  during  the  evening.  John  had  informed  his 
mother  that  Captain  Benson,  who  had  formerly  com- 
manded the  Pinchbrook  Riflemen,  intended  to  raise  a 
company  for  the  war.  He  mentioned  the  names  of  half 
a  dozen  young  men  who  had  expressed  their  desire  to 
join.  Tlie  family  had  suggested  that  this  and  that  man 
would  go,  and  thus  the  long  evening  passed  away. 

"  I  don't  see  what  has  become  of  Thomas,"  said  Mrs. 
Somers,  when  the  clock  struck  eleven,  as  she  rose  from 
her  chair  and  looked  out  of  the  Avindow. 

"  Well,  I  don't  see,  either,"  replied  Jolin.  "  I  don't 
believe  there  is  any  thing  going  on  at  this  time  of  night." 

''  I  hope  nothing  has  happened  to  him,"  continued  the 
anxious  mother,  as  she  went  to  the  door  and  looked  out, 
hoping,  perhaps,  to  discover  him  in  the  gloom  of  the 
night,  or  to  hear  his  familiar  step. 

""What  could  have  happened  to  him?"  asked  John, 
who  did  not  believe  his  brother  was  fool  enough  to  fall 
overboard,  or  permit  any  serious  accident  to  happen  to 
tim. 

''  I  don't  know.     I   can't  see  what  has  got  the  boy. 


(JO  THE  SOLDIER   BOY,  OR 

He  always  comes  home  before  nine  o'clock.  Have  you 
heard  him  say  any  thing  that  will  give  you  an  idea  where 
he  is?" 

"  He  hasn't  said  any  thing  to  me." 

"  Try,  and  see  if  you  can't  think  of  something,"  per^ 
sisted  the  anxious  mother. 

"  He  hasn't  talked  of  any  thing  but  the  war  since  yes- 
terday morning." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  I  don't  know,  now,"  answered  John,  musing.  "  He 
said  he  should  like  to  join  the  army,  and  go  down  and 
fight  the  rebels." 

Mrs.  Somers  had  heard  as  much  from  him,  but  she 
had  given  no  particular  attention  to  his  remarks  on  this 
subject,  for  they  seemed  wild  and  visionary.  John's 
words,  under  the  present  circumstances,  appeared  to  be 
full  of  importance  ;  and  taking  her  stocking,  she  seated 
herself  before  the  stove,  and  resumed  her  knitting.  She 
was  silent  now,  for  her  heart  was  heavy  with  the  premo- 
nitions of  impending  trouble. 

"  I  Avill  take  a  walk  down  to  the  Harbor,  mother,  and 
see  if  I  can  find  any  thing  of  him.  There  may  be  some- 
thing going  on  there  that  I  don't  know  about.  He  may 
be  at  the  store,  talking  about  the  war  with  Captain  Bar 
ney  and  the  rest  of  the  folks." 

Mrs.  Somers  offered  no  objection  to  this  plan,  and 
John   put  on  his  cap,  and   left   the  house.       The    poor 


TOAf   SOMEHS   /A'    'Jlf£;   ARMY.  g^ 

mother  brooded  upon  her  trouble  for  another  hour, 
and  with  every  new  moment,  the  trouble  seemed  more 
real.  The  clock  struck  twelve  before  John  returned*,  and 
more  than  once  during  his  absence,  as  she  plied  her 
needles,  she  had  wiped  away  a  tear  that  hung  among  the 
furrows  of  her  care-worn  cheek.     She  had  been  thinkin^^ 

o 

of  her  husband,  as  wtU  as  of  her  son.  He  was,  or  soon 
would  be,  in  the  midst  of  the  traitors,  and  she  trembled 
for  him.  Uncle  Wyman  was  a  secessionist ;  and,  be- 
yond this,  she  had  not  much  confidence  in  his  integrity, 
and  if  Captain  Somers  came  home  at  all,  his  property 
would  all  be  swept  away,  and  he  would  be  a  beggar. 

The  events  of  that  day  were  not  calculated  to  conciliate 
Squire  Pemberton  towards  them,  and  the  farm  and  the 
cottage  would  pass  away  from  them.  All  these  thin^-s 
had  been  considered  and  reconsidered  by  the  devoted 
mother.  Poverty  and  Mant  seemed  to  stare  her  in  the 
face  ;  and  to  add  to  all  these  troubles,  Tliomas  did  not 
come  home,  and,  as  fond  mothers  will,  she  anticipated 
the  worst. 

John  entered  the  kitchen,  and  carelessly  flung  his  cap 
upon  the  table.  Mrs.  Somers  looked  at  him,  and  waited 
patiently  to  hear  any  intelligence  he  might  bring.  But 
John  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  looking  more  gloomy 
than  before  he  left  the  house.  He  did  not  speak,  and 
therefore  he  had  no  good  news  to  tell. 

"  You  didn't  see  any  thing  of  him  —  did  you  ?  "  asked 
6 


62 


THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 


iSTrs.  Somers  ;  but  it  was  a  useless  question,  for  she  had 
already  interpreted  the  meaning  of  his  downcast  looks. 

''  No,  mother  ;  there  isn't  a  man,  woman,  or  child 
stirring  in  the  village  ;  and  I  didn't  see  a  light  in  a  singU 
house." 

"What  do  you  suppose  can  have  become  of  him?" 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  Tom  is  old  enough  and 
smart  enough  to  take  care  of  himself." 

"  It's  very  strange." 

"  So  it  is.    I  haven't  any  idea  what  has  become  of  him." 

"  Did  you  look  around  Squire  Pemberton's  house, 
where  he  was  seen  last  ?  " 

"  I  looked  about  on  both  sides  of  the  road,  going  and 
coming  from  the  Harbor.  I  whistled  all  the  way,  and 
if  he  had  been  any  where  round,  he  would  have  whistled 
back,  as  he  always  does." 

"  What  do  you  suppose  has  become  of  him  ? "  de- 
manded the  poor  mother,  worried  beyond  expression  at 
the  mysterious  disappearance  of  her  son. 

"  I  can't  tell,  mother." 

"  Don't  you  think  we  had  better  call  up  the  neighbors ^ 
and  have  something  done  about  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  John,  hardly  less  anxious 
than  his  mother. 

"  I  don't  suppose  they  would  be  able  to  find  him  if  we 
did,"  added  Mrs.  Somers,  wiping  away  the  tears  from 
her  face. 


TOM    SOMJ::JiS    IN     THE    ARMY.  53 

''  I  can't  tliiiik  any  thing  has  happened  to  him,  mother. 
If  he  had  been  on  the  water,  or  any  thing  of  tliat  kind,  I 
shoukl  feel  worse  about  it." 

''  If  I  only  knew  where  he  was,  I  shouldn't  feel  so- 
bad  about  it,"  said  she  ;  and  her  position,  certainly,  was  a 
reasonable  one. 

''  What's  the  matter,  sister?  "  called  gran'ther  Greene, 
from  his  chamber.     "  Hasn't  that  boy  got  home  yet?  " 

"'  Xo,  he  hasn't  come  yet,  and  I  am  worried  to  death 
about  him,"  replied  Mrs.  Somers,  opening  the  door  of 
her  brother's  room. 

"  What  o'clock  is  it?" 

*^  After  twelve.  Thomas  never  staid  out  so  late  in  his 
life  before.     Wliat  do  you  suppose  has  become  of  him  ?  " 

''  Law  sake  !  I  haven't  the  leastest  idea,"  answered  the 
old  man.  •'  Tliomas  is  a  smart  boy,  and  knows  enough 
to  keep  out  of  trouble." 

"  That's  what  I  say,"  added  John,  who  had  unlim- 
ited confidence  in  his  brother's  ability  to  take  care  of 
himself. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  /think,  John,"  said  Mrs.  Somers, 
throwing  herself  into  her  chair  w^ith  an  air  of  despera- 
tion. 

But  she  did  not  tell  John  what  she  thought :  on  the 
contrary,  she  sat  rocking  herself  in  silence,  as  though 
her  thought  w^as  too  big  and  too  momentous  ibr  utter 
ancc. 


64  THE   SOLDIER    BOY,  OH 

"Well,  what  do  you  think,  mother?"  asked  John, 
when  he  had  waited  a  reasonable  time  for  her  to  express 
her  opinion  on  the  exciting  topic. 

Mrs.  Somers  rocked  herself  more  violently  than  be- 
fore, and  made  no  reply. 

"  What  were  you  going  to  say?" 

"  I  think  the  boy  has  gone  off  to  Boston,  and  gone 
into  the  army,"  replied  she,  desperately,  as  though  she 
had  fully  made  up  her  mind  to  commit  herself  to  this 
belief. 

"  Do  you  think  so,  mother?" 

"  I  feel  almost  sure  of  it." 

*'  I  don't  think  so,  mother.  Tom  wouldn't  have  gone 
off  without  saying  something  to  me  about  it." 

"If  he  wouldn't  say  it  to  me,  he  wouldn't  be  likely  to 
say  it  to  you,  John.  It  don't  look  a  bit  like  Thomas  to 
go  off  and  leave  his  mother  in  this  way,"  moaned  th^ 
poor  woman,  wiping  away  a  deluge  of  tears  that  now 
poured  from  her  eyes. 

"  I  don't  believe  he  has  done  any  such  thing,  mother," 
protested  John. 

"  I  feel  almost  certain  about  it,  now.  If  the  boy 
wanted  to  go,  and  couldn't  stay  at  home,  he  ought  to 
have  told  me  so." 

*'  He  did  say  he  wanted  to  go." 

"I  didn't  think  he  really  meant  it.  I  want  my  boys 
to  love  their  country,  and  be  ready  to  fight  for  it.    Much 


TOAf   SOMEIiS    I.y    THE    ARMY.  55 

as  I  should  liate  to  part  with  them,  if  they  are  needed, 
they  may  go  ;  but  I  don't  like  to  have  them  run  away 
and  leave  me  in  this  mean  Avay.  I  shouldn't  feel  half 
60  bad  if  I  knew  Thomas  was  in  the  army  now,  as  I  do 
to  tliink  lie  ran  away  from  home,  just  as  though  he  had 
done  some  mean  thing.  I  am  willing  he  should  go,  and 
lie  wouldn't  be  a  son  of  mine  if  he  wasn't  ready  to  go 
and  fight  for  his  country,  and  die  for  her  too,  if  there 
was  any  need  of  it.  I  didn't  tliink  Thomas  would  serve 
me  in  this  way." 

"  I  don't  believe  he  has." 

"  I  know  he's  gone.  I  like  his  spunk,  but  if  he  had 
only  come  to  me  and  said  he  must  go,  I  Avouldn't  have 
said  a  word  ;  but  to  go  off  without  bidding  us  good  by 
■ —  it's  too  bad,  and  I  didn't  think  Thomas  Avould  do  such 
a  thing." 

Mrs.  Somers  rose  from  her  chair,  and  paced  the  room 
in  the  highest  state  of  agitation  and  excitement.  The 
rockers  were  not  adequate  to  the  duty  required  of  them, 
and  nothing  less  than  the  whole  floor  of  the  kitchen  was 
sufficient  for  the  proper  venting  of  her  emotion. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,  mother,  that  you  would  have 
given  him  leave  to  go,  even  if  he  had  teased  you  for  a 
month  ?  "  asked  John. 

"  Certainly  I  should,"  replied  his  mother,  stopping 
short  in  the  middle  of  the  floor.  "I'm  ready  and  willing 
to  have  my  boys  fight  for  their  country,  but  I  don't 
-     6* 


6(5  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

want  them  to  sneak  off  as  though  they  had  been  rob- 
bing a  hen-roost,  and  without  even  saying  good  by 
to  me." 

"  If  Tom  -sverc  licre,  do  you  moan  to  say  you  would 
let  him  go?"  demanded  John,  earnestly. 

"  Certainly  I  do  ;  I  mean  so.  But  I  don't  think  there 
is  any  need  of  boys  like  him  going,  when  there  are  men 
enough  to  do  the  fighting." 

"  You  told  Tom  he  shouldn't  go." 

"  Well,  I  didn't  think  he  really  meant  it.  If  he  had  — 
"What's  that,  John  ?  "  asked  she,  suddenly,  as  a  noise  at 
the  window  attracted  her  attention. 

*'  Only  the  cat,  mother." 

"  If  Thomas  or  you  had  asked  me  in  earnest,  and 
there  Avas  need  of  your  going,  I  wouldn't  have  kept 
either  of  you  at  home.  I  would  go  to  the  poorhouse 
first.  My  father  and  my  brother  both  fought  for  their 
country,  and  my  sons  shall  when  their  country  wants 
them." 

"  Then  you  are  willing  Tom  should  go  ?  " 

"  I  am,  but  not  to  have  him  sneak  off  like  a  sheep- 
stealer." 

"  Three  cheers  for  you,  mother ! "  shouted  Thomas, 
as  he  threw  up  the  windoAv  at  which  he  had  been  stand- 
ing for  some  ten  minutes  listening  to  this  interesting 
conversation. 


TOM   SOMEItS    IX    THE   ARMY. 


67 


"Where  have  you  beeu,  Thomas?"  exclaimed  the 
delighted  mother. 

"  Open  the  door,  Jack,  and  let  me  in,  and  I  will  tell 
you  all  about  it,"  replied  the  absentee. 

"  Come  in  ;  the  door  isn't  locked,"  said  John. 

He  came  in  ;  and  Avhat  he  had  to  tell  will  interest  th« 
reader  as  well  as  his  mother  and  his  brother. 


cs 


THE   SOLDIER   BOY,   OR 


CHAPTER    VII. 


A    MIDNIGHT    ADVENTURE. 


/^^^OM  SOMERS  was  an  enterprising  young  man, 
/I  as  our  readers  liave  already  discovered  ;  and 
\<Ay  when  the  door  of  the  finished  room  in  tlie 
attic  of  Squire  Pemberton's  liouse  was  fastened  upon 
him,  he  was  not  at  all  disposed  to  submit  to  the 
fate  Avhich  appeared  to  be  in  store  for  him.  The  idea 
of  becoming  a  victim  to  the  squire's  malice  was  not  to 
be  entertained,  and  he  threw  himself  upon  the  bed  to 
devise  some  means  by  which  he  might  make  his 
escape. 

The  prospect  was  not  encouraging,  for  there  was  only 
one  window  in  the  chamber,  and  the  distance  to  the 
ground  was  suggestive  of  broken  limbs,  if  not  of  a 
broken  neck.  Tom  had  read  the  Life  of  Baron  Trenck, 
and  of  Stephen  Burroughs,  but  the  experience  of  neither 
of  these  worthies  seemed  to  be  available  on  the  present 
occasion. 

As  the  family  had  not  yet  retired,  it  would  not  be 
safe    to    commence    operations    for     some    hours.       Tlie 


TOM  SO  ME  US   IX    THE   ARMY.  (J9 

«tale,  commonplace  method  of  tying  the  sheets  and 
bhiukets  together,  and  thus  forming  a  rope  by  which  he 
couUl  descend  to  the  ground,  occurred  to  him  ;  but  he  had 
not  much  coniidence  in  the  project.  He  hiy  quietly  on 
the  bed  till  he  hoard  the  clocks  on  the  churches  at  the 
Harbor  strike  twelve.  It  was  time  then,  if  ever,  for  the 
family  to  be  asleep,  and  he  decided  to  attempt  an  escape 
by  another  means  which  had  been  suggested  to  him.  If 
it  failed,  he  could  then  resort  to  the  old-fashioned  way 
of  going  down  on  the  rope  made  of  sheets  and  blankets/ 

The  apartment  in  which  Tom  was  confined  was  not  what 
people  in  the  country  call  an  "•  upright  chamber."  The 
sides  of  the  room  were  about  four  feet  in  height ;  and  a 
section  of  the  apartment  would  have  formed  one  lialf  of 
an  irregular  octagon.  In  each  side  of  the  chamber 
there  was  a  small  door,  opening  into  the  space  near 
the  eaves  of  the  house,  which  was  used  to  store  old 
tnmks,  old  boxes,  the  disused  spinning-wheel,  and  other 
lumber  of  this  description.  Tom  had  been  in  the  attic 
before,  and  he  remembered  these  doors,  through  one  of 
which  he  now  proposed  to  make  his  escape. 

When  the  clock  struck  twelve,  he  cautiously  rose  from 
the  bed,  and  pulled  off  his  boots,  which  a  proper  respect 
for  his  host  or  the  bed  had  not  prompted  him  to  do 
before.  The  house  was  old,  and  the  floors  had  a  ten- 
dency to  creak  beneath  his  tread.  With  the  utmost 
care,  be    crawled   on    his   hands    and  knees  to  one  of 


70  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

the  doors  of  the  hiniber  hole,  which    he    succeeded    in 
opeuiug  without  much  uoise. 

Making  his  way  iu  among  the  old  boxes,  trunks, 
and  spinning-wheels,  he  was  fully  embarked  in  his  diffi- 
cult venture.  The  dust  Avhich  he  stirred  up  in  his 
progress  produced  an  almost  irresistible  desire  to 
sneeze,  which  Lord  Dundreary  might  have  been  happy 
to  indulge,  but  which  might  have  been  fatal  to  the  exe- 
cution of  Tom  Somers's  purpose.  He  rubljed  his  nose, 
and  held  his  handkerchief  over  the  intractable  member, 
and  succeeded  in  overcoming  its  dangerous  tendency. 
His  movements  were  necessarily  very  slow,  for  he  was 
in  constant  dread  lest  some  antiquated  relic  of  the  past 
should  tumble  over,  and  thus  disturb  tlie  slumbers  of 
the  family  who  occupied  the  chambers  beloAv. 

But  in  spite  of  the  perils  and  ditficulties  that  en- 
vironed his  path,  there  was  something  exciting  and 
exhilarating  in  the  undertaking.  It  was  a  real  adven- 
ture, and,  as  such,  Tom  enjoyed  it.  As  he  worked 
his  Avay  through  the  labyrinth  of  antiquities,  he  could 
not  but  picture  to  himself  the  surprise  and  chagrin  of 
Squire  Pemberton,  when  he  should  come  up  to  the  attic 
cliamber  to  wreak  his  vengeance  upon  him.  He  could 
Bee  the  magnate  of  Pinchbrook  start,  compress  his  lipg 
and  clinch  his  fists,  when  he  found  the  bird  had  flown. 

"  Better  not  crow  till  I  get  out  of  the  woods,"  said  he 
to  himself,  while  his  imagination  was  still  busy  upon  the 
agreeable  picture. 


TOM   SO  ME  Its    IX    THE   ARMY.  7^ 

After  a  series  of  trials  aud  difficulties  which  our 
space  does  uot  permit  us  to  describe  in  full,  Tom 
emerged  from  the  repository  of  autiquities,  aud  stood  iu 
the  opeu  space  iu  front  of  the  finished  chamber.  AViUi 
one  boot  in  each  hand,  he  felt  his  way  to  the  stairs,  and 
descended  to  the  entry  over  the  front  door.  All  ob- 
stacles now  seemed  to  be  overcome,  for  he  had  nothing 
to  do  but  go  down  stairs  and  walk  out. 

It  often  happens,  amid  the  uncertainties  of  this  unsta- 
ble world,  that  we  encounter  the  greatest  trials  and  diffi- 
culties precisely  where  we  expect  to  find  none.  As  Tom 
walked  along  the  entry,  with  one  hand  on  the  rail  that 
protected  the  staircase  to  guide  him,  he  struck  his  foot 
against  the  pole  upon  which  Fred  Pemberton  had  sus- 
pended the  flag  out  of  the  window.  It  was  very  care- 
less of  the  squire,  when  he  took  the  flag  in,  to  leave  the 
stick  in  that  unsafe  position,  for  one  of  his  o^\ti  family 
might  have  stumbled  against  it,  aud  broken  a  leg  or  an 
arm,  or  possibly  a  neck ;  aud  if  it  might  have  been  a 
"  cause  of  offence "  to  one  of  the  Pembertons,  it  cer- 
tainly laid  a  grievous  burden  upou  the  shoulders  of  poor 
Tom  Somers. 

When  the  pole  fell,  it  made  a  tremendous  racket,  as 
all  poles  Avill  when  they  fall  just  at  the  moment  Avhen 
they  ought  to  stand  up,  and  be  decent  and  orderly.  This 
catastrophe  had  the  effect  to  qui*'ken  the  steps  of  the 
young  man.     He  reached  the  stairs,  and  had  commenced 


72  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

a  rapid  descent,  when  the  door  of  the  squire's  room, 
which  was  on  the  lower  floor,  opened,  and  Tom  found 
himself  flanked  in  that  direction. 

''  Who's  there?  Wliat's  that?  "  demanded  the  squire, 
in  hurried,  ncr^•ous  tones. 

Tom  was  so  impolite  as  to  make  no  reply  to  these 
pressing  interrogatories,  but  quickly  retreated  in  the 
direction  from  which  he  had  come. 

''  Wife,  light  the  lamp,  quick,"  said  the  squire,  in  the 
hall  below. 

Just  then  a  door  opened  on  the  other  side  of  the  entry 
where  Tom  stood,  and  he  caught  a  faint  glimpse  of  a 
figure  robed  in  Avhite.  Though  it  was  tlie  solemn  hour 
of  midnight,  and  Tom,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  had  read  the 
Three  Spaniards,  and  Mysteries  of  Udolpho,  he  rejected 
the    suorjrestion   that  the  "  sheeted    form "    mio^ht    be    a 


'oc 


ghost. 

"Who's  there?"  called  the  squire  again. 

A  romantic  little  scream  from  the  figure  in  white 
assured  Tom  that  Miss  Susan  was  the  enemy  immedi- 
ately on  his  front.  Then  he  caught  the  glimmer  of  th« 
light  below,  which  Mrs.  Pemberton  had  procured,  and 
the  race  seemed  to  be  up.  Concealment  was  no  longer 
practicable,  and  he^seized  upon  the  happy  suggestion  that 
the  window  opening  upon  the  portico  over  the  front  dooi 
was  available  as  a  means  of  egress. 

Springing  to  the  windoAv,  he  raised  it  with  a  prompt 


TOM  SOMERS  IN   THE   ARMY.  73 

and  vigorous  hand,  and  before  the  squire  could  ascend  the 
stairs,  he  was  upon  the  roof  of  the  portico.  Throwiug 
his  6oots  down,  he  grasped  the  gutter,  and  "  hung  off." 
He  was  now  on  terra  fir  ma,  and  all  his  trials  appeared 
to  have  reached  a  happy  termiuatiou  ;  but  here  again 
he  was  doomed  to  disappointment. 

''  Bow,  wow,  wow-er,  woo,  row  !  "  barked  and  growled 
the  squire's  big  bull  dog,  when  he  came  to  realize  that 
some  unusual  occurrences  were  transpiring. 

The  animal  was  a  savage  brute,  and  was  kept  chained 
in  tlie  barn  during  the  day,  and  turned  loose  when  the 
squire  made  his  last  visit  to  the  cattle  about  nine  in  the 
evening.  Tom  was  thoroughly  alaruied  when  this  new 
enemy  confronted  him  ;  but  fortunately  he  had  the  self- 
possession  to  stand  his  gi'ound,  and  not  attempt  to  run 
away,  otherwise  the  dog  would  probably  have  torn  him 
in  pieces. 

'*  Come  here,  Tige  !  Poor  fellow  !  Come  here  !  He's 
a  good  fellow  !  Don't  you  know  me,  Tige  ?  "  said  Tom, 
whose  only  hope  seemed  to  be  in  conciliation  and  com- 
promise. 

If  Tige  knew  him,  he  appeared  to  be  very  unwilling 
to  acknowledge  the  acquaintance  under  the  present  sus- 
picious circumstances,  and  at  this  unseemly  hour.  The 
brute  barked,  snarled,  howled,  and  growled,  and  mani- 
fested as  strong  an  indisposition  to  compromise  as  a 
South  Carolina  fire-eater.  He  placed  himself  in  front  of 
7 


74  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

the  hero  of  the  night's  adventure,  as  resohite  and  as  in. 
tractable  as  though  he  had  kno^^^l  all  the  facts  in  the 
ease,  and  intended  to  carry  out  to  the  letter  the  wishes 
of  his  master. 

Tom  slowly  retreated  towards  the  garden  fence,  the 
dog  still  following  him  up.  He  had  tried  coaxing  and 
conciliation,  and  they  had  failed.  As  he  cautiously 
backed  from  the  house,  his  feet  struck  against  a  heavy 
cart  stake,  which  seemed  to  suggest  his  next  resort.  He 
was  well  aware  that  any  quick  movement  on  his  part 
would  cause  the  dog  to  spring  upon  him.  Placing  his 
toe  under  the  stake,  he  raised  it  Avith  his  foot,  till  he  could 
reach  it  with  his  hand,  keeping  his  gaze  fixed  upon  the 
eyes  of  the  dog,  which  glared  like  fiery  orbs  in  the 
gloom  of  the  hour. 

Tige  saw  the  stick,  and  he  appeared  to  have  a  whole- 
some respect  for  it  —  a  sentiment  inspired  by  sundry 
beatings,  intended  to  cure  a  love  of  mutton  on  the  hoof, 
or  beef  on  the  shelf.  The  brute  retreated  a  few  paces  ; 
but  at  this  moment  Squire  Pemberton  appeared  at  the 
front  door,  with  a  lantern  in  his  hand.  He  understood 
the  "  situation  "    at   a  glance. 

"  Take  him,  Tige  !    Stu'  boy  !  "   shouted  the  squire. 

The  dog  snarled  an  encouraging  reply  to  this  sugges- 
tion, and  moved  up  towards  the  fugitive.  Tom's  courage 
was  equal  to  the  occasion,  and  he  levelled  a  blow  at  the 
head  of  the  bull  dog,  which,  if  it  had  hit  him  fairly,  uMist 


T(/M   SOMKIiS    IN    THE   ARMY.  75 

have  smashed  in  his  skull.  As  it  was,  the  blow  was  a 
heavy  one,  and  Tige  retreated  ;  but  the  shouts  of  the 
squire  rallied  him,  and  he  rushed  forward  to  the  on- 
slaught again. 

Tom,  as  we  have  before  had  occasion  to  suggest,  waj 
a  master  of  strategy,  and  instead  of  another  stroke  at  the 
head  of  his  savage  foe,  Avith  only  one  chance  in  ten  of 
hitting  the  mark,  he  commenced  swinging  it  vigorously 
to  the  right  and  left,  as  a  mower  does  his  scythe.  His 
object  was  to  hit  the  legs  of  the  dog  —  a  plan  w  hich  was 
not  entirely  original  with  him,  for  he  had  seen  it  adopted 
with  signal  success  by  a  fisherman  at  the  Harbor.  The 
consequence  of  this  change  of  tactics  was  soon  apparent, 
for  Tige  got  a  rap  on  the  fore  leg,  which  caused  him  to 
yelp  with  pain,  and  retire  from  the  field.  While  the 
dog  moved  off  in  good  order  in  one  direction,  Tom 
effected  an  equally  admirable  retreat  in  the  other  direc- 
tion. 

On  reaching  the  road,  he  pulled  on  his  boots,  which 
he  had  picked  up  after  the  discomfiture  of  his  canine 
antagonist.  Squire  Pemberton  still  stood  at  the  door 
trying  to  bring  Tige  to  a  sense  of  his  duty  in  the  trying 
emergency ;  but  the  brute  had  more  regard  for  his  own 
shins  than  he  had  for  the  mandate  of  his  master,  and  the 
victor  was  permitted  to  bear  away  his  laurels  without 
further  opposition. 

When  he  reached  his  father's  house,  supposing   the 


76  'J'BE    SOLDIER    BOY,   OR 

front  door  was  locked,  he  went  to  the  kitchen  win- 
dow, where  he  had  heard  the  patriotic  remarks  of  his 
mother.  Tom  told  his  story  in  substance  as  we  have 
related  it. 

"Do  you  mean  what  you  have  said,  mother?"  in- 
quired he,  when  he  had  finished  his  narrative. 

Mrs.   Somers  bit   her   lip    in    silence  for  a  moment, 

"  Certainly  I   do,  Thomas,"   said  she,  desperately. 

It  was  half  past  one  Avhen  the  boys  retired,  but  it 
was  another  hour  before  Tom's  excited  brain  would 
permit  him  to  sleep.  His  head  was  full  of  a  bi^ 
thought. 


TOM    SO  mi:  US    /A     TJlh    AJCMl'.  /"/ 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

SIGNING    THE    PAPERS. 

/^^fc^lKvMAS  went  to  sleep  at  last,  and,  worn  out 
i  I  ^y  ^^^^  fatigue  and  excitement  of  the  day,  he 
VlJ^  slept  long  and  soundly.  His  mother  did  not 
call  him  till  eight  o'clock,  and  it  was  nine  before  he 
reached  the  store  of  his  employer,  where  the  recital  of 
the  adventure  of  the  preceding  night  proved  to  be  a 
sufficient  excuse  for  his  non-appearance  at  the  usual 
hour. 

In  the  course  of  the  week  Captain  Benson  had  pro- 
cured the  necessary  authority  to  raise  a  company  for 
three  years  or  for  the  war.  When  he  exhibited  his  pa- 
pers, he  found  twenty  persons  ready  to  put  down  their 
names.  A  recruiting  office  was  opened  at  the  store,  and 
every  day  added  to  the  list  of  brave  and  self-denying 
men  who  were  ready  to  go  forward  and  fight  the  battles 
of  liberty  and  union.  The  excitement  in  Pinchbrook 
was  fanned  by  the  news  which  each  day  brought  of  the 
zeal  and  madness  of  the  traitors. 

Thomas  had  made  up  his  mind,  even  before  his  mother 
7* 


78  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

had  been  surprised  into  giving  her  consent,  that  he  should 
go  to  the  war.  At  the  first  opportunity,  therefore,  he 
wrote  his  name  upon  the  paper,  very  much  to  the  aston- 
ishment of  Captain  Benson   and  his  employer. 

"How  old  are  you,  Tom?"    asked  the  captain. 

"  I'm  in  my  seventeenth  year,"  replied  the  soldier 
boy. 

"  You  are  not  old  enough." 

"  I'm  three  months  older  than  Sam  Thompson ; 
and  you  didn't  even  ask  him  how  old  he  was." 

"He  is  larger  and  heavier  than  you  are?" 

"  I  can't  help  that.  I'm  older  than  he  is,  and  I 
think  I  can  do  as  much  in  the  way  of  fighting  as  he 
can." 

"  I  don't  doubt  that,"  added  the  captain,  laughing. 
"  Your  affair  with  Squire  Pemberton  shows  that  you 
have  pluck  enough  for  any  thing.  I  should  be  very 
glad  to  have  you  go  ;   but  what  does  your  father  say  ? " 

"  He  hasn't  said  any  thing.  He  isn't  at  home. 
He  went  away  before  Sumter  was  fired  upon  by  the 
rebels." 

"  True  —  I  remember.  "What  does  your  mother 
say?" 

"  O,   she   is  willing." 

"Are  you  sure,  Tom?" 

"  Of  course,  I  am.  Suppose  you  write  something  hj 
which  she  can  give  her  consent,  and  she  will  sign  it." 


TOMS    BAiTLK    Al     MlU.MOll  T.  —  PAGt 


TOM   SO  ME  Its    IX    THE    ARMY.  79 

Captain  Benson  drew  up  the  document,  and  when 
Tom  went  home  to  dinner,  he  presented  it  to  his 
mother  for  her  signature. 

"•  I  hope  you  won't  back  out,  mother,"  said  he,  as 
she  put  on  her  spectacles,  and  proceeded  to  ascertain 
the  contents  of  the  document. 

"Back  out  of  what,  Thomas?" 

"  I've  signed  the  muster  roll,  and  I  belong  to  Cap 
tain   Benson's  company   now." 

'•  You  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Somers,  lowering  the  pa- 
per, and  gazing  earnestly  into  the  face  of  the  young 
man,  to  discover  whether  he  was  in  earnest. 

'^  Yes,  mother ;  you  said  you  were  willing,  and  I 
have  signed  the  papers ;  but  Captain  Benson  wants 
your  consent  in  writing,  so  that  there  shall  be  no  mis- 
take about   it." 

The  mother  read  the  paper  in  silence  and  sadness, 
for  the  thought  of  having  her  noble  boy  exposed  to  the 
perils  of  the  camp  and  the  march,  the  skirmish  and  the 
battle,  was  terrible,  and  nothing  but  the  most  exalted 
patriotism  could  induce  a  mother  to  give  a  son  to  his 
country. 

"  I  don't  want  to  sign  this  paper,  Thomas,"  said  she, 
when  she  had  finished  reading  it. 

"  Have  you  forgot  what  you  said  the  other  night, 
mother?" 

"  No,   I  haven't  forgot  it,  and  I  feel  now  just  as  I 


go  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

did  then.  If  there  is  any  real  need  of  your  going,  I 
am  willing  you  should  go." 

"Need?  Of  course  there  is  need  of  soldiers.  The 
President  wasn't  joking  when  he  called  for  seventy-five 
thousand  men." 

"  But  there  are  enough  to  go  without  you." 

"  That's  just  what  every  body  might  say,  and  then 
there  wouldn't  be   any  body  to  go." 

"But  you  are  young,  and  not  very  strong." 

"  I'm  old  enough,  and  strong  enough.  When  I  can 
get  a  day  to  myself,  I  don't  think  it's  any  great 
hardship  to  carry  father's  heavy  fowling-piece  from 
sunrise  to  sunset ;  and  I  guess  I  can  stand  it  to  carry 
a  musket  as  long  as  any  of  them." 

"  You  are  only  a  boy." 

"  I  shall  be  a  man  soon  enough." 

"  When  you  have  gone,  John  will  want  to  go  too." 

"  No,  mother,  I  don't  want  to  go  into  the  army," 
said  John,  with  a  sly  wink  at  his  brother.  "  I  shall 
never  be  a  soldier  if  I  can  help  it." 

"  What  am  I  going  to  do,  if  you  all  go  off  and  leave 
me?"  added  Mrs.  Somers,  trying  hard  to  keep  doTNTi 
a  tear  which  was  strujjfrlinor  for  birth  in  her  fountain  of. 
sorrows. 

"  I  don't  think  you  will  want  for  any  thing,  mother. 
I'm  sure  I  wouldn't  leave  you,  if  I  thought  you 
would.      I   don't   get   but   two    dollars   and  a  half  a 


TOM   SOMEliS    IX    THE    AliMV.  gj 

week  in  the  store,  aud  I  shall  have  eleven  dollars  a 
month  in  the  army,  and  it  won't  cost  me  any  thing  for 
board  or  clothes.  I  will  scud  every  dollar  I  get  home 
to  you." 

"'  You  are  a  good  boy,  Thomas,"  replied  Mrs. 
Somers,  unable  any  longer  to  restrain  the  tear.  '*  1 
know  you  and  John  both  will  do  every  thing  you 
can  for  me.  If  your  fatlier  was  only  at  home,  I  should 
feel  different  about  it." 

*'  lie  would  believe  in  my  fighting  for  my  country 
if  he  were  here." 

"  I  know  he  would,"  said  Mrs.  Somers,  as  she  took 
the  pen  which  Thomas  handed  her,  and  seated  her^ 
self  at  the  table.  "  If  you  are  determined  to  go,  I 
suppose  you  will  go,  Avhcthcr  I  am  willing  or  not." 

"  No,  mother,  I  will  not,"  added  Thomas,  de- 
cidedly. "  I  shouldn't  have  signed  the  muster  roll  if 
you  hadn't  said  you  were  willing.  And  if  you  say 
new  that  you  won't  consent,  I  will  take  my  name  off 
the  paper." 

"But  you  want  to  go  —  don't  you?" 

"I  do  ;  there's  no  mistake  about  that :  but  I  won't 
go  if  you  are  not  willing." 

Mrs.  Somers  wrote  her  name  upon  the  paper.  It 
was  a  slow  and  ditficult  operation  to  her,  and  during 
the  time  she  wa.>  thus  occupied,  the  rest  of  the  family 
watched    her    in    «»iioct    anxiety.     Perhaps,  if  she  had 


32  1BE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

not  committed  herself  on  the  eventful  night  when  she 
fully  believed  that  Thomas  had  run  away  and  joined 
the  army,  she  might  liave  offered  more  and  stronger 
objections  than  she  now  urged.  But  there  was  a  vein 
of  patriotism  in  her  nature,  which  she  had  inherited 
Irom  her  father,  who  had  fought  at  Bunker  Hill, 
Brandywine,  and  Germantown,  and  which  had  been 
exemplified  in  the  life  of  her  brother  ;  and  this,  more 
than  any  other  consideration,  induced  her  to  sign  the 
paper. 

Thousands  of  loving  and  devoted  mothers  have  given 
their  sons  to  their  country  in  the  same  holy  enthusi- 
asm that  inspired  her.  She  was  not  a  solitary  instance 
of  this  noble  sacrifice,  and  if  both  her  sons  had  been 
men,  instead  of  boys,  she  Avould  not  have  interposed 
a  single  objection  to  their  departure  upon  a  mission 
so  glorious  as  that  to  which  Thomas  had  now  devoted 
himself. 

"  There's  my  name,  Thomas,"  said  his  mother,  as 
she  took  off  her  spectacles.  "  I've  done  it,  and  you 
have  my  free  consent.  You've  always  been  a  good 
boy,  and  I  hope    you  will    always  be  a  good  soldier." 

''  I  shall  always  try  to  do  my  duty,  mother ;  and 
if  ever  I  turn  my  back  to  a  rebel,  I  hope  you'll  dis- 
own me." 

"  Good,  Tom !  "  exclaimed  John,  mIio  had  been 
deeply  interested  in  the  event  of  the  hour. 


TOM   SOML'nS   IX    THE   ARMY.  g3 

*'  Well,  Thomas,  I'd  rather  face  two  rebels  than  that 
bull  dog  you  tit  with  t'other  uiglit,"  added  gran'ther 
Greene.     "•  You  are  as  bold  as  a  lion,  Thomas." 

''Do  you  think  I  can  stand  it,  gran'ther?"  added 
Tom,  with  a  smile. 

''Stand  it?  Well,  Thomas,  it's  a  hard  life  to  be 
a  soldier,  and  I  know  something  about  it.  When  we 
marched  from " 

"  Dinner's  ready,"  interposed  Mrs.  Somers,  for 
gran'ther  Greene  had  marched  that  march  so  many 
times  that  every  member  of  the  family  knew  it  by 
heart. 

"  There's  one  good  thing  about  it,  Tom,"  said  John : 
"  you  have  got  a  first-rate  captain." 

"  I'm  thankful  you  are  going  with  Captain  Benson, 
for  if  there  ever  was  a  Christian  in  Pinclibrook,  he  is 
the  man,"   added  Mrs.  Somers. 

"  And  all  the  company  will  be  your  own  friends 
and  neighbors,"  said  gran'ther  Greene ;  "  and  that's 
something,  I  can  tell  you.  I  know  something  about 
this  business.     When  Ave  marched  from  " " 

"Have  some  more  beans,  brother?"  asked  Mrs. 
Somers.  "  You  will  be  among  your  friends,  Thomas, 
as  gran'ther  says." 

"That's  a  great  thing,  I  can  tell  you,"  added  the 
veteran.  "  Soldiers  should  stick  together  like  brothers, 
and  feel  that  they  are  fighting  for  each  other,  as  well 


g4  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

as  for  tlie  coimtry.  Then,  when  you're  sick,  you  want 
friends.  When  we  marched  from  Sackett's  Harbor, 
there  was  a  young  feller " 

''Have  some  more  tea,  brother?" 

"  Part  of  a  cup,  Nancy,"  replied  the  old  man,  who 
never  took  offence  even  when  the  choicest  stories  of 
his  military  experience  were  nipped  in  the  bud. 

After  dinner,  Thomas  hastened  back  to  the  store. 
That  day  seemed  to  him  like  an  epoch  in  his  existence, 
as  indeed  it  was.  He  felt  that  he  belonged  to  his 
country  now,  and  that  the  honor  of  that  old  flag,  which 
had  been  insulted  by  traitors,  was  committed  to  his 
keeping.  He  was  taking  up  the  work  where  his  gi'aud- 
father  had  left  it.  He  was  «foin"r  forth  to  fijjht  for 
his  country,  and  the  thought  inspired  him  with  a  noble 
and  generous  enthusiasm,  before  which  ail  the  aspira- 
tions of  his  youth  vanished. 

As  he  passed  the  house  of  Squire  Pemberton,  he 
bestowed  a  pitying  reflection  upon  the  old  traitor  ;  but 
his  mind  was  so  full  of  the  great  event  which  Avas 
dawning  upon  him,  that  he  did  not  even  think  of  the 
exciting  incidents  which  had  occurred  there.  He  had 
neither  seen  nor  heard  any  thing  of  the  squire  since 
he  had  escaped  from  the  attic  chamber. 

Just  beyond  the  squire's  house  he  met  Captain 
Barney,  who  was  riding  up  to  the  town  hall. 

"What's  this  I  hear  of  you,  Tom?"  demanded  the 


TOM   SOMEPiS    IX    THE   AJiMY.  g5 

captain,  as  he  reined  in  his  horse.  "  They  say  you  have 
joined  the  company." 

'^  Yes,  sir.     I  have." 

"  Bravo !  my  boy.  Good  on  your  head !  You 
ought  to  go  out  as  ,a  brigadier  general.  What  does 
your  mother  say  ?  " 

"  I  have  her  written  consent  in  my  pocket." 

''  All  right.  God  bless  you,  my  boy ! "  said  the 
old  salt,  as  he  started  his  horse. 

*'  Thank  you,  sir.  There's  only  one  thing  that 
troubles  me." 

^'Eh?  What's  that,  my  boy?"  demanded  Captain 
Barney,  as  he  reined  up  the  horse  again. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  heard  of  my  scrape  at  Squire 
Pemberton's  the  other  night." 

''  Yes  ;  and  shiver  my  timbers  if  I  didn't  want  to 
keelhaul  the  old  traitor  when  I  heard  of  it." 

"  I  don't  care  any  thing  about  the  scrape,  sir ;  only 
I'm  afraid  the  squire  will  bother  my  mother  when  I'm 
gone,"  said  Thomas,  with  some  diffidence. 

"  If  he  does,  he'll  settle  the  matter  with  Jack  Bar, 
ney,"    replied  the  captain,  decidedly. 

"  My  father  may  never  come  back,  you  know,  and 
if  he  does  he  will  be  a  beggar.  He  owes  the  squire 
a  note,  which  will  be  due  in  Jung.'* 

''  I'll  pay  it  myself!  "  roared  Captain  Barney.  "  Go 
and  fight  for  your  country,  Tom,  like  a  man.  I'll 
8 


86  THE   SOLDIER   BOY,    OR 

call  aud  sec  your  mother  once  a  "vveek,  or  every  day 
in  the  week,  if  you  say  so.  She  shall  not  want  for 
any  thing  as  long  as  I  have  a  shot  in  the  locker." 

"  Thank  you,  Captain  Barney ;     thank  you,  sir." 

"  I'll  take  care  of  your  mother,  my  lad,  and  I'll 
take  care  of  the  squire.  He  shall  not  foreclose  that 
mortgage,  Tom.  Don't  bother  your  head  about  any 
of  those  things.  You're  a  good  boy,  Tom,  and  I'll 
keep  every  thing  all  right  at  home." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  repeated  the  soldier  boy,  as  Cap- 
tain Barney  started  his  horse  again. 

The  captain  was  a  retired  shipmaster,  of  ample 
means,  and  Tom  knew  that  he  Avas  not  only  able,  but 
willing,  to  do  all  he  had  promised.  His  lieart  was 
lisrhter :    a  load  had  been  removed  from  his  mind. 


TO  'I   SOMERS    IX    THE   AR2dT.  g'J 


CHAPTER    IX. 


THE    DEPARTUKE. 


% 


T  the  time  of  which  we  write,  recruiting  oflRcers 
were  uot  very  particular  iu  regard  to  the  age 
Z^"  jV  of  those  whom  they  received  iuto  the  vohmteer 
army.  If  the  young  man  seemed  to  have  the  requisite 
physical  qualifications,  it  was  of  little  consequence  what 
his  age  was ;  and  Tom  Somers  was  tall  enough  and 
etout  enough  to  make  a  very  good  soldier. 

Captain  Benson  examined  the  certificate  brought  to 
him  by  the  young  recruit,  not,  however,  because  it  was 
deemed  a  necessary  legal  form,  but  because  he  was 
acquainted  with  his  father  and  mother,  and  would  not 
williugly  have  done  any  thing  to  displease  them.  The 
matter,  therefore,  Avas  disposed  of  to  the  satisfaction  of 
ftll  the  parties  concerned,  and  Tom  actually  commenced 
his  career  as  a  soldier  boy.  He  immediately  resigned 
his  situation  in  the  store,  for  the  company  now  num- 
bered forty  men,  not  half  a  dozen  of  whom  had  any 
knowledge  whatever  of  military  drill. 

A3  the  volunteers  of  the  Pinchbrook  company  could 


88  THE    >i  OLD  I  Ell    n  O  \\  O  H 

ill  afford  to  lose  the  time  devoted  to  drill  before  thej 
should  be  mustered  into  the  service  of  the  United  States, 
the  to^v^l  voted  to  pay  each  man  fifteen  dollars  a  month 
for  three  mouths.  This  generous  and  patriotic  action  of 
the  town  rejoiced  the  heart  of  Tom  Somers,  for  his 
mother  actually  needed  the  pittance  he  had  earned  at  the 
store.  Mrs.  Somers  had  heard  nothing  from  her  hus- 
band ;  but  tlie  destruction  of  the  Gosport  Navy  Yard, 
and  the  seizure  of  several  northern  vessels  in  the  har- 
bor of  Norfolk,  left  her  little  to  hope  for  in  that  direc- 
tion. Suddenly  an  impregnable  wall  seemed  to  rise  up 
between  the  North  and  the  South,  and  she  not  only 
feared  that  Captain  Somers  had  lost  all  his  worldly  pos- 
sessions, but  that  he  would  hardly  be  able  to  escape  him- 
self from  the  fiery  furnace  of  secession  and  treason. 

To  her,  therefore,  the  future  looked  dark  and  forbid- 
ding. She  foresaw  that  she  and  her  family  would  be 
subjected  to  the  pressure  of  want,  or  at  least  be  depend- 
ent upon  the  kindness  of  friends  for  support.  She  had 
freely  stated  her  fears  to  her  children,  and  fully  exhibited 
the  insufficiency  of  the  family  resources.  The  vote  of 
the  town  was  a  perfect  godsend  to  Tom,  and  a  fat  legacy 
from  a  rich  relative  would  not  have  kindled  a  stronger 
feeling  of  gratitude  in  his  soul. 

For  the  next  five  weeks,  Tom  was  employed  forenoon, 
afternoon,  and  evening,  in  the  drill,  and  he  soon  made 
himself  proficient.     The  company  was  recruited  nearlj 


TOM  SOMERS   IN   THE   ARMY.  gg 

up  to  its  maximum  number,  and  was  then  attached  to 
the  — til  regiment,  which  had  just  been  formed  and 
ordered  to  Fort  Warren. 

On  the  27th  day  of  May,  the  company,  escorted 
by  the  patriotic  citizens  of  Pinchbrook,  marched  to  Bos- 
ton, and  Tom  took  a  sorrowful  farewell  of  his  moth- 
er, his  brother  and  sisters,  and  a  score  of  anxious 
friends. 

"  Now  don't  let  the  rebels  hit  you  in  the  backbone, 
Thomas,"  said  gran'ther  Greene,  as  he  shook  the  hand 
of  the  soldier  boy. 

"  No,  gran'ther ;  if  I  can't  fight,  I  won't  run  av/ay," 
replied  Tom. 

"  You've  got  good  blood  in  your  veins,  my  boy  :  don't 
disgrace  it.  I  don't  know  as  you'll  ever  see  me  again, 
but  God  bless  you,  Thomas  ; "  and  the  old  man  turned 
away  to  hide  the  tears  which  began  to  course  down  his 
wrinkled  cheek. 

"  Be  a  good  boy,  Thomas,"  added  his  mother. 

"  I  will,  mother." 

''  And  remember  what  I've  been  telling  you.  I'm  not 
half  so  muoli  afraid  of  your  being  killed  by  a  bullet,  as? 
I  am  of  your  being  ruined  by  bad  men." 

"  You  needn't  fear  any  thing  of  that  kind,  mother." 

"  I   shall   pray   that   you    may  be    saved    from  youi 
friends  as  well  as  from  your  enemies.      We   shaU  see 
y«u  again  before  you  go  off,  I  hope." 
8* 


90 


THE    SOLDIER   BOY,  OK 


"  Yes,  mother  ;  we  shall  not  be  sent  south  yet." 

"  Don't  forget  to  read  your  Testament,  Thomas,"  said 
Mrs.  Somers. 

"  I  won't,  mother,"  replied  the  soldier  boy,  as  he  again 
shook  hands  with  all  the  members  of  the  family,  kissed 
his  mother  and  his  sisters,  and  hitching  up  his  knapsack, 
took  his  place  in  the  ranks. 

His  heart  seemed  to  be  clear  up  in  his  throat.  During 
the  tender  scene  he  had  just  passed  through,  he  had  man- 
fully resisted  his  inclination  to  weep,  but  he  could  no 
longer  restrain  the  tears.  Suddenly  they  came  like  a 
flood  bursting  the  gates  that  confined  it,  and  he  choked 
and  sobbed  like  a  little  girl.  lie  leaned  upon  his  mus- 
ket, covering  his  face  with  his  arm. 

*'  It's  a  hard  case,"  said  private  Hapgood,  who  stood 
next  to  him  in  the  ranks. 

"  I  didn't  think  it  would  take  me  down  like  this,'' 
sobbed  Tom. 

"  Don't  blubber,  Tom.  Let's  go  off  game,"  added 
Ben  Lethbridge,  who  stood  on  the  other  side  of  him. 

"  I  can't  help  it,  Ben." 

"  Yes,  you  can  —  dry  up  !      Soldiers  don't  cry,  Tom." 

"Yes,  they  do,  my  boy,"  said  Hapgood,  wlio  was  a 
little  old  man,  nearly  ten  years  beyond  the  period  of 
exemption  from  military  duty.  "  I  don't  blame  Tom  for 
crying,  and,  in  my  opinion,  he'll  fight  all  the  better 
for  it." 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE  ARMY.  ^\ 

*'  Perhaps  he  will,  old  uii ;  but  I  don't  think  much  ot*  a 
soldier  that  blubbers  like  a  baby.  I  hope  he  won't  run 
away  when  he  sees  the  rebels  coming,"  sneered  Ben. 

"'  If  he  does,  he'll  have  a  chance  to  see  how  thick  the 
heels  of  your  boots  are,"  answered  the  old  man. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that,  old  uu?"  demanded 
Ben. 

'^  Attention  —  company  !  Shoulder  —  arms  !  Forward 
• —  march  !  "  said  the  captain  ;  and  the  discussion  was 
prevented  from  proceeding  any  further. 

The  band,  which  was  at  the  head  of  the  citizens'  col- 
umn, struck  up  an  inspiring  march,  and  Tom  dried  his 
tears.  The  escort  moved  oiF,  followed  by  the  company. 
They  passed  the  little  cottage  of  Captain  Somers,  and 
Tom  saw  the  whole  family  except  John,  who  was  in  the 
escort,  standing  at  the  front  gate.  The  old  soldier  swung 
his  hat,  Tom's  sisters  and  his  mother  waved  their  hand- 
kerchiefs ;  but  when  they  saw  the  soldier  boy,  they  had  to 
use  them  for  another  purpose.  Tom  felt  another  upward 
pressure  in  the  region  of  the  throat ;  but  this  time  he 
choked  down  his  rising  emotions,  and  saved  himself 
from  the  ridicule  of  his  more  callous  companion  on  the 
left. 

In  violation  of  military  discipline,  he  turned  his  head 
to  take  one  last,  fond  look  at  the  home  he  was  leaving 
behind.  It  might  be  the  last  time  he  should  ever  gaze 
on  that  loved  spot,  now  a  thousand  times  more  dear  than 


92  THE   SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

ever  before.  Never  had  he  realized  the  meaning  of 
home  ;  never  before  had  he  felt  how  closely  his  heart's 
tendrils  were  intwined  about  that  hallowed  place.  Again, 
in  spite  of  his  firmness  and  fortitude,  and  in  spite  of  the 
sneers  of  Ben  Lethbridge,  he  felt  the  hot  tears  sliding 
down  his  cheek. 

AYhen  he  reached  the  brow  of  the  hill  which  would 
soon  hide  the  little  cottage  from  his  view,  perhaps  for- 
ever, he  gazed  behind  him  again,  to  take  his  last  look  at 
the  familiar  spot.  His  mother  and  his  sister  still  stood 
at  the  front  gate  watching  the  receding  column  in  which 
the  son  and  the  brother  Avas  marching  away  to  peril  and 
perhaps  death. 

"  God  bless  my  mother  !  God  bless  them  all !  "  Avere 
the  involuntary  ejaculations  of  the  soldier  boy,  as  he 
turned  away  from  the  hallowed  scene." 

But  the  memory  of  that  blessed  place,  sanctified  ])y  the 
presence  of  those  loving  and  devoted  ones,  was  shrined  in 
the  temple  of  his  heart,  ever  to  go  with  him  in  camp  and 
march,  in  the  perils  of  battle  and  siege,  to  keep  him  true 
to  his  God,  true  to  himself,  and  true  to  those  wliom  he 
had  left  behind  him.  That  last  look  at  home  and  those 
that  make  it  home,  like  the  last  fond  gaze  we  bestow  on 
the  loved  and  the  lost,  was  treasured  up  in  tlie  garner  of 
the  heart's  choicest  memories,  to  be  recalled  in  the  sol- 
emn stillness  of  the  midnight  vigil,  amid  the  horrors 
of  the  battle-field  when  the  angry  strife  of  arms  had 


TOM    SOMJiUS    IN    THE   ARMY.  93 

feAsed,  and  in  the  gloom  of  the  soldier's  sick  bed  when 
no  mother's  hand  was  near  to  lave  the  fevered  brow. 

The  moment  when  he  obtained  his  last  view  of  the 
home  of  his  childhood  seemed  like  the  most  eventful 
period  of  his  existence.  His  heart  grew  big  in  his 
bosom,  and  yet  not  big  enough  to  contain  all  he  felt. 
He  wept  again,  and  his  tears  seemed  to  come  from 
deeper  do\\Ti  than  his  eyes.  He  did  not  hear  the  inspir- 
ing strains  of  the  band,  or  the  cheers  that  greeted  the 
company  as  they  went  forth  to  do  and  die  for  their  coun- 
try's imperilled  cause. 

"Blubbering  again,  Tom?"  sneered  Ben  Lethbridge. 
"  I  thought  you  was  more  of  a  man  than  that,  Tom 
Somers." 

"  I  can't  help  it,  Ben,"  replied  Tom,  vainly  struggling 
to  subdue  his  emotions. 

"  Better  go  back,  then.  We  don't  want  a  great  baby 
in  the  ranks." 

"  It's  nateral,  Ben,"  said  old  Hapgood.  "  He'll  get 
over  it  when  he  sees  the  rebels." 

"  Don't  believe  he  will.  I  didn't  think  you  were 
such  a  great  calf,  Tom." 

"  Shet  up,  now,  Ben,"  interposed  Hapgood.  "  I'll  bet 
my  life  he'll  stand  fire  as  well  as  you  will.  I've  been 
about  in  the  world  some,  and  I  reckon  I've  as  good  an 
idee  of  this  business  as  you  have.  Tom's  got  a  hear/ 
under  his  ribs," 


54  THE    SOLDIER   SOY,  OR 

"  I'll  bet  he  runs  away  at  the  first  fire." 

''  I'll  bet  he  won't." 

''  I  kjiow  I  won't  I  "  exclaimed  Tom,  with  energy,  ai 
he  drew  his  coat  sleeve  across  his  eyes. 

''  It  isn't  the  cock  that  crows  the  loudest  that  will  fight 
the  best,"  added  the  old  man.  ''  I'll  bet  Tom  will  be 
able  to  tell  you  the  latest  news  from  the  front,  where  the 
battle's  the  hottest.  I  fit  my  way  up  to  the  city  of  Mex- 
ico long  er  old  Scott,  and  I've  heard  boys  crow  afore 
to-day." 

"  Look  here,  old  un  !  If  you  mean  to  call  me  a  cow- 
ard, why  don't  you  say  so,  right  up  and  down?"  growled 
Ben. 

"  Time'  11  tell,  my  boy.  You  don't  know  what  gun- 
powder smells  like  yet.  If  you'd  been  with  the  fust 
Pennsylvany,  where  I  Avas,  you'd  a-knoAvn  sunthin  about 
war.  Now,  shet  up,  Ben  ;  and  don't  you  worry  Tom 
any  more." 

But  Tom  was  no  longer  in  a  condition  to  be  worried- 
Though  still  sad  at  the  thought  of  the  home  and  friends 
he  had  left  behind,  he  had  reduced  his  emotions  to  proper 
subjection,  and  before  the  column  reached  Boston,  he  had 
even  regained  his  wonted  cheerfulness.  The  procession 
halted  upon  the  wharf,  where  the  company  was  to  em- 
bark on  a  steamer  for  Fort  TTarren.  As  the  boat  which 
was  to  convey  them  to  the  fort  had  not  yet  arrived,  the 
tnen  were  permitted  to  mingle  with  their  friends  on  the 


TOM  SOMERS    IN    THE  ARMY.  95 

wharf,  aud,  of  course,  Tom  immediately  sought  out  liia 
brother.  He  fouud  him  engaged  in  a  spirited  conversa- 
tion with  Captain  Benson. 

"  What  is  it,  Jack?"  asked  the  soldier  boy. 

"  I  wan't  to  join  this  company,  and  the  captain  won't 
Jet  me,"  replied  John.  ^ 

"  You,  Jack  !  " 

"  Yes,  I." 

*'  Did  mother  say  so?  " 

"No,  but  she  won't  care." 

"  Did  you  ask  her  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  didn't  think  of  going  till  after  I  started  from 
home." 

"  Don't  think  of  it.  Jack.  It  would  be  an  awful 
blow  to  mother  to  have  both  of  us  go." 

For  half  an  hour  Tom  argued  the  matter  with  John  ; 
but  the  military  enthusiasm  of  the  latter  had  been  so 
aroused  by  the  march  and  its  attendant  circumstances, 
that  he  could  not  restrain  his  inclination. 

"If  I  don't  join  this  company,  I  shall  some  other," 
said  John. 

"  I  shall  have  to  go  home  again,  if  you  do  ;  for  I  won't 
have  mother  left  alone.  We  haven't  been  mustered  in 
yet.  Besides,  I  thought  you  wanted  to  go  into  tho 
navy." 

"  I  do  ;  but  I'm  bound  to  go  somehow,"  replied  John. 

But  what  neither  Tom  nor  Captain  Benson  could  do^ 


96 


THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 


was  accomplished  by  Captain  Barney,  who  declared  John 
should  go  home  with  him  if  he  had  to  take  him  hy  the 
collar.  The  ardent  young  patriot  yielded  as  gracefully 
as  he  could  to  this  persuasion. 

The  steamer  having  arrived,  the  soldiers  shook  hands 
with  their  friends  again,  went  on  board,  and,  amid  the 
hearty  cheers  of  the  citizens  of  Pinchbrook,  were  borne 
down  the  bay. 


TOM  SOMERS    IX    THE   ARM^Y. 


CHAPTER    X. 


COMPANY   K. 


^^j^OM  SOMERS  felt  that  he  was  now  a  soldier 
/ 1  indeed.  While  the  company  remained  in 
\!j.y  Pinchbrook,  he  had  slept  every  night  in  his 
own  bed,  and  taken  his  meals  in  the  kitchen  of  the 
iittle  cottage.  He  fully  realized  that  he  had  bade  a 
long  fnrewell  to  all  the  comforts  and  luxuries  of  home. 
Thot  day,  for  the  first  time,  he  was  to  partake  of 
soldiers'  fare,  and  that  night,  for  the  first  time,  he  wa3 
to  sleep  upon  a  soldier's  bed.  These  thoughts  did  not 
make  him  repine,  for  before  he  signed  the  muster  roll, 
he  had  carefully  considered,  with  the  best  information 
he  could  obtain,  \vhat  hardships  and  privations  he  would 
be  called  to  endure.  He  had  jiiade  up  his  mind  to 
bear  all  things  without  a  murmur  for  the  blessed  land 
of  his  birth,  wliich  now  called  upon  her  sons  to  de- 
fend her  from  the  parricidal  blow  of  the  traitor. 

Tom    had    not    only  made    up    his  mind  to  bear  all 
these  things,  but  to  bear  them  patiently  and  cheerfully. 
He    had    a    little  theory  of  his  own,   that   rather  more 
9 


pg  THE    SOLDIF.n   HOT,    OR 

than  half  of  the  discomforts  of  this  mortal  life  exist  onl^ 
iu  the  imagination.  If  he  only  thought  that  every  thing 
was  all  right,  it  went  a  great  way  towards  making  it 
all  right  —  a  very  comforting  and  satisfactory  philoso- 
phy, which  reduced  the  thermometer  from  ninety  down 
to  seventy  degrees  on  a  hot  day  in  summer,  and  raised 
it  from  ten  to  forty  degrees  on  a  cold  day  iu  winter ; 
which  filled  his  stomach  when  it  was  empty,  alleviated 
the  toothache  or  the  headache,  and  changed  snarling 
babies  into  new-fledged  angels.  I  commend  Tom's 
philosophy  to  the  attention  and  imitation  of  all  my 
young  friends,  assured  that  nothing  will  keep  them  so 
happy  and  comfortable  as  a  cheerful  and  contented 
disposition. 

"  Tom  Somers,"  said  a  voice  near  him,  cutting  short 
the  consoling  meditation  in  which  he  was  engaged. 

His  name  was  pronounced  in  a  low  and  cautious 
tone,  but  the  voice  sounded  familiar  to  liim,  and  he 
turned  to  ascertain  wlio  liad  addressed  him.  lie  did 
not  discover  any  person  who  appeared  to  be  the  owner 
of  the  voice,  and  Avas  leaving  the  position  he  had  taken 
on  the  forward  deck  of  the  steamer,  when  his  name 
was  repeated;  in  the  same  low  and  cautious  tone. 

"Who  is  it?  "Where  are  you?"  said  Tom,  look- 
ing all  about  him,  among  the  groups  of  soldiers  who 
were  gathered  on  various  parts  of  the  deck,  discussing 
the  present  and  the  future. 


TOM  SOMERS    IX    THE    AR^fY.       ^  g^ 

**  Here,  Tom,"  replied  the  voice,  which  sounded 
more  familiar  every  time  he  heard  it. 

He  turned  his  eye  in  the  direction  from  which  the 
sound  proceeded,  and  there,  coiled  up  behind  a  heap  of 
barrels  and  boxes,  and  concealed  by  a  sail-cloth  which 
had  been  thrown  over  the  goods  to  protect  them 
from  an  expected  shower,  he  discovered  Fred  Pem- 
berton. 

'"''  What  in  tlie  name  of  creation  arc  you  doing  there, 
Fred  ?  "  exclaimed  Tom,  laughing  at  the  ludicrous  atti- 
tude of  the  embryo  secessionist. 

''  Hush  !  Don't  say  a  word,  Tom.  Sit  down  here 
where  I  can  talk  with  you,"  added  Fred. 

*' \VTiat  are  you  doing  here?" 

"'  I'll  toll  if  you  will  keep  quiet  a  moment.  Is  the 
eompany  full  ?  "    - 

''  What  company  ?  " 

"  Captain  Benson's,  of  course." 

*'  Xo." 

"  I  w^ant  to  join." 

*'You!"    ejaculated  Tom. 

"  Come,  come,  Tom,  no  blackguarding  now.  You 
and  I  used  to  be  good  friends." 

"I've  nothing  against  you,  Fred  —  that  is,  if  you'r* 
not  a  traitor." 

"  I  want  to  join  the  company." 

"  Is  your  father  willing  ?  " 


lOQ  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

"  Of  course  he  isn't  ;  but  that  needn't  make  an^ 
difference." 

"  But  you  don't  believe  in  our  cause,  Fred.  We 
don't  want  a  traitor  in  the  ranks." 

"  Hang  the  cause  !    I  want  to  go  witli  the  company." 

"  Hang  the  cause  ?  Well,  I  reckon  that's  a  good 
recommendation." 

"  I'm  all  right  on  that." 

*'  Are  you  Avilling  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance, 
and  swear  to  Sustain  the  flag  of  your  country?" 

"  Of  course  I  am.  I  only  followed  the  old  man's 
lead  ;  but  I  have  got  enough  of  it.  Do  you  think  Cap- 
tain Benson  will  take  me  into  the  company?" 

''  Perhaps  he  will." 

''Ask  him  —  Avill  you?  You  needn't  say  I'm  here, 
you  know." 

"But  what  will  your  father  say?" 

"  I  don't  care  what  he  says." 

Tom  thought,  if  Fred  didn't  care,  he  needn't ;  and 
going  aft,  he  found  the  captain,  and  proposed  to  him 
the  question. 

"Take  him  —  yes.  We'll  teach  him  loyalty  and 
patriotism,  and  before  his  time  is  out,  we  will  make 
him  an  abolitionist,"  replied  Captain  Benson.  "  What 
will  his  father  say?" 

"  His  father  doesn't  know  any  thing  about  it.  Fred 
ran  away,  and  followed  the  company  into  the  city." 


TO.\f   SOMERS    IN    THE    ARMY.  \{)l 

"  Squire  Pemberton  is  a  traitor,  and  I  believe  the 
army  will  be  the  best  school  in  the  world  for  his  son," 
added  the  captain.  "  It  will  be  better  for  him  to  be 
with  us  than  to  be  at  home.  If  it  was  the  son  of 
any  other  man  in  Pinchbrook,  I  wouldn't  take  him 
without  the  consent  of  his  father  ;  as  it  is,  I  feel  per- 
fectly justified  in  accepting  him." 

Tom  hastened  to  the  forward  deck  to  report  the 
success  of  his  mission.  The  result  was,  that  Fred 
came  out  of  his  hiding-place,  and  exhibited  himself  to 
the  astonished  members  of  the  Pinchbrook  company. 
When  he  announced  his  intention  to  go  to  the  war,  and, 
with  a  pardonable  flourish,  his  desire  to  serve  his 
c/^untry,  he  was  saluted  with  a  volley  of  cheers. 
Captain  Benson  soon  appeared  on  the  forward  deck, 
and  the  name  of  the  new  recruit  was  plaeed  on  the 
enlistment  paper. 

Fred  was  seventeen  years  of  age,  and  was  taller 
and  stouter  than  Tom  Somers.  No  questions  were 
asked  in  regard  to  his  age  or  his  physical  ability  to 
endure  the  hardships  of  a  campaign. 

The  steamer  arrived  at  Fort  Warren,  and  the  com- 
pany landed.  After  waiting  a  short  time  on  the 
wharf,  the  color  company  of  the  — th  regiment,  to 
which  they  were  attached,  came  down  and  escorted 
them  to  the  parade  ground  within  the  fort.  It  was  a 
desolate  and  gloomy-looking  place  to  Tom,  who  had 
9* 


[02  '^^^  SOLDIER  nor,  on 

always  lived  among  green  fields,  and  the  beautiful 
surroundings  of  a  New  England  rural  district. 

If  the  fort  itself  looked  dreary,  how  much  more  so 
were  the  casemates  in  Avhicli  the  company  was  quar- 
tered !  But  Tom's  philosophy  was  proof  against  the 
unpleasant  impression,  and  his  joke  was  as  loud  and 
hearty  as  that  of  any  of  his  companions.  The  men 
were  divided  off  into  messes,  and  they  had  an  abun- 
dance of  work  to  do  in  bringing  up  the  company's 
luggage,  and  making  their  new  habitation  as  comfortable 
and  pleasant  as  the  circumstances  would  permit. 

The  next  day  the  Pinchbrook  boys  were  designated 
as  Company  K,  and  placed  in  the  regimental  line. 
The  limits  of  this  volume  do  not  permit  me  to  detail 
the  every-day  life  of  the  soldier  boy  while  at  Fort 
Warren,  however  interesting  and  instructive  it  might 
be  to  our  friends.  A  large  portion  of  the  forenoon 
w^as  devoted  to  squad  and  company  drill,  and  of  the 
afternoon  to  battalion  drill.  The  colonel,  though  a 
very  diminutive  man  in  stature,  was  an  enthusiast  in 
military  matters,  and  had  the  reputation  of  being  one  of 
the  most  thorough  and  skilful  officers  in  the  state.  Tom 
Somers,  who,  since  he  joined  the  company,  had  fell 
ashamed  of  himself  because  he  ^vas  no  bigger,  became 
quite  reconciled  to  his  low  corporeal  estate  w^hen  he 
found  that  the  colonel  of  the  regiment  w^as  no  taller 
find    no    heavier    than   himself.      And  w^hen  he  heard 


TOM    VOMERS    IX    THE    AEMV.  I(j3 

the  high  praise  bestowed  upou  the  colonel's  military 
skill  and  martial  energy,  he  came  to  the  conclusion 
thai  it  does  not  require  a  big  man  to  make  a  good 
soldier.  AVitli  a  feeling  of  satisfaction  he  recalled  the 
fact  that  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  Avhou  he  commanded 
the  army  of  Italy,  was  scarcely  a  bigger  man  than  the 
colonel  or  himself. 

The  colonel  was  a  strict  disciplinarian,  and  he  soon 
diffused  his  energy  throughout  the  regiment.  It  made 
rapid  progress  in  its  military  education.  Tom  was 
deeply  interested  in  the  details  of  his  new  profession, 
and  used  his  best  endeavors  to  do  his  duty  promptly 
and  faithfully.  This  was  not  the  case  witli  all  the 
boys  in  the  company  from  Piuchbrook,  and  I  am 
sorry  to  say  that  some  of  them,  including  tlie  brave 
and  chivalric  Ben  Lethbridge,  had  to  sit  upon  the  stool 
of  repentance  in  the  guard  room  on  several  occasions. 

Fred  Femberton  was  clothed  in  the  uniform  of  the 
United  States  volunteers,  and  we  must  do  him  the 
justice  to  say  that  he  performed  his  duty  to  the  entire 
satisfaction  of  his  officers.  Fred  was  a  good  fellow, 
and,  barring  his  treason,  which  he  had  derived  from 
his  father,  was  highly  esteemed  by  those  who  knew 
him.  The  only  stain  that  had  ever  rested  upon  his  char- 
acter was  removed,  and  he  and  Tom  were  as  good 
friends  as  ever  they  had  been.  His  motive  in  joining 
the    army,    however,    could    not    be    applauded.      He 


104  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

thought  all  his  friends  were  going  off  to  the  South 
upon  a  kind  of  frolic,  spiced  with  a  little  of  peril 
and  liardship  to  make  it  the  more  exciting,  and  he 
did  not  like  the  idea  of  being  left  behind.  To  the 
sentiment  of  patriotism,  as  developed  in  the  soul  of  Tom 
Somers  and  many  of  his  companions,  he  was  an  entire 
stranger.  He  was  going  to  the  war  to  participate 
in  the  adventures  of  the  — th  regiment,  rather  than 
to  fic:ht  for  the  fla":  which  had  been  insulted  and  dis- 
honored  by  treason. 

Every  day  the  steamers  brought  crowds  of  visitors 
to  the  fort  to  see  their  friends  in  the  regiments  quar- 
tered there,  or  to  Avitness  the  drills  and  parades  which 
were  constantly  succeeding  each  other.  Among  them 
came  many  of  the  people  of  Pinchbrook,  and  Tom  was 
delighted  by  a  visit  from  his  whole  family.  His  moth- 
er found  him  so  comfortable  and  contented  that  she 
returned  with  half  the  heavy  burden  on  her  soul 
removed. 

While  the  Pinchbrook  boys  were  generally  rejoiced 
to  see  their  friends  from  home,  there  was  one  in  the 
company  who  was  in  constant  dread  lest  he  should 
recognize  a  too  familiar  face  in  the  crowds  which  the 
steamers  daily  poured  into  the  fort.  Fred  Pemberton 
did  not  wish  to  see  his  nearest  friends  ;  but  after  he 
had  been  in  the  company  some  ten  days,  just  as  the 
boys   had   been  dismissed  from    the  forenoon    drill,  he 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE   ARMY.  105 

discovered    at    a   distance    the   patriarchal  form  of   his 

father. 

-  My    pipe's    out,  Tom,"    said    Fred,  as   he    rushed 
into    the    casemate  where    a  group  of  his    compauioni 
were  resting  from  the  fatigues  of  the  morning. 
^*  What's  the  matter  now,  Fred?" 
"  The  old  man  has  just  come  into  the  fort." 

*^Has  he?" 

u  Yes  — what  shall  I  do?" 

-  Keep  a  stiff  upper  lip,  Fred,  and  we  will  put  you 
throu-li  all  right,"  said  Sergeant  Porter. 

^•What  shall  I  do?"  demanded  Fred,  who,  what- 
ever his  views  in  regard  to  the  justice  or  injustice  of 
coercion,  did  not  wish  to  be  taken  from  the  company. 

-  Come  with  me,"  said  the  sergeant,  as  he  led  the 
way  into  an  adjoining  casemate.  "No;  nobody  else 
will  come,"  'added  he,  motioning  back  other  members 
of  the  mess  who  was  disposed  to  follow. 

In  the  casemate  to  which  Sergeant  Porter  conducted 
Fred,  there  was  a  pile  of  boxes,  in  which  the  muskets 
of  one  of  the  regiments  had  been  packed.  The  fugi- 
tive from  his  father's  anxious  search  was  directed  to 
get  into  one  of  these  boxes,  from  which  the  sergeant 
removed  the  gun  rests.  He  obeyed;  his  confederate 
put  on  the  lid  so  as  to  permit  him  to  receive  a  plen- 
tiful  supply  of  air,  and  other  boxes  were  placed  upon 
that  containing  the  runaway. 


206  '^^^    SOLDIER    BOY.    OR 

Squire  Pemberton  presented  himself  before  Captain 
Benson,  and  demanded  his  son.  Fred  was  sent  for, 
but  coukl  not  be  found.  Sergeant  Porter  kept  out  of 
the  way,  and  not  another  man  in  the  company  knew 
any  thing  about  him.  The  boys  were  very  willing  to 
assist  the  indignant  father  in  his  search,  but  all  their 
efforts  were  unavailing.  The  squire  examined  every 
casemate,  and  every  nook  and  corner  upon  the  island, 
but  without  effect, 

"  I  want  my  son,  sir,"  said  the  squire,  angrily,  to 
the  captain.     "  I  require  you  to  produce  him." 

"  I  don't  know  where  he  is,"  replied  Captain  Ben- 
son. 

"  You  have  concealed  him,  sir." 

"  I  have  not." 

The  squire  appealed  to  the  colonel,  but  obtained  no 
satisfaction,  and  was  obliged  to  leave  without  accom- 
plishing his  purpose.  As  soon  as  he  had  gone,  Fred 
appeared,  and  the  boys  laughed  for  a  week  over 
tiae  affair. 


TOM  SOMERS   IN    THE  ARMY.  |07 


CHAPTER    XI. 


IN   WASniNGTON. 


N  the  17th  of  June^  the  regiment  left  Fort 
Warren,  and  after  being  conveyed  by  steamer 
to  Boston,  marched  to  Camp  Cameron.  Here 
the  "little  colonel"  displayed  his  energy  and  military 
^kill  to  much  greater  advantage  than  when  within  the 
narrow  confines  of  the  fort.  The  men  were  not  only  care- 
fully and  persistently  drilled,  but  they  were  educated,  as 
far  as  the  circumstances  would  permit,  for  the  arduous 
duties  of  a  campaign. 

Tom  Somers  had  already  begim  to  feel  a  soldier's 
pride  in  his  new  situation  ;  and  though  he  found  that 
being  a  soldier  boy  was  not  always  the  easiest  and  the 
pleasantest  thing  in  the  world,  he  bore  his  trials  with 
philosophical  patience  and  fortitude,  and  made  the  most  of 
whatever  joys  the  circumstances  placed  within  his  reach. 
Otiiers  grumbled,  but  he  did  not.  He  declared  that 
he  had  enlisted  for  the  war,  and  meant  to  take  things  as 
they  came.  It  was  not  exactly  agreeable  to  stand  on 
?uard  for  two  hours,  on  a  cold,  rainy  night ;  but  grum- 


103  ^^^  SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

bling  would  not  make  it  any  the  more  agreeable,  and 
only  made  the  grumbler  discontented  and  unhappy.  It 
did  not  look  like  "  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  war," 
and  no  doubt  most  of  the  boys  in  the  Pinchbrook  com 
pany  would  have  been  better  satisfied  in  their  own 
houses  in  '"  the  village  by  the  sea."  But  most  of  these 
men  had  left  their  happy  homes  under  the  inspiration  of 
the  highest  and  truest  motives.  They  were  going  forth 
to  fight  the  battles  of  their  imperilled  country,  and  this 
reflection  filled  them  with  a  heroism  which  the  petty 
trials  and  discomforts  of  the  camp  could  not  impair. 

While  the  regiment  was  at  Camp  Cameron,  the  state 
colors  and  a  standard,  procured  by  the  liberality  of  its 
friends,  were  presented  ;  and  the  patriotic  speeches  deliv- 
ered on  this  occasion  made  a  deep  impression  upon  the 
mind  and  heart  of  the  soldier  boy.  To  him  they  were 
real  —  perhaps  more  real  than  to  those  who  uttered  the 
burning  words.  He  was  in  a  situation  to  feel  the  full 
force  of  the  great  sacrifice  which  the  soldier  makes  for 
his  country.  He  devoted  himself,  heart  and  soul,  to  the 
cause  ;  and  what  was  but  an  idle  sentiment  in  the  mind 
of  the  flowery  speech-makers,  was  truth  and  soberness 
to  him  who  was  to  meet  the  foe  at  the  cannon's  mouth 
and  at  the  bayonet's  point. 

*'We  are  oif  on  the  29th,"  said  old  Hapgood,  one 
evening,  as  he  entered  the  barrack  where  Tom  was  writ- 
insr  a  letter  to  his  mother. 


TOM   SOMKRS    JX    THE   ARMY.  ^09 

"Good!  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  I  was  just  telliug  my 
mother  that  I  hoped  we  should  not  have  to  stay  much 
longer  in  this  place,"  replied  Tom. 

"  I  think  we  are  having  an  easy  time  of  it  here," 
added  the  veteran.  '•  When  you  liud  out  what  hunger 
and  fatigue  mean,  you  will  learn  to  be  contented  with 
such  a  place  as  this." 

"  I'm  contented  enough  ;  but  I  want  to  get  into  the 
field,  and  have  something  done." 

"  Time  enough,  my  boy.  I  used  to  feel  just  so,  Tom, 
when  I  went  to  Mexico  ;  but  after  a  while  I  got  so  I 
didn't  care  what  we  did  or  where  we  went." 

Tom  added  a  postscript  to  his  letter,  informing  his 
mother  of  the  time  fixed  for  the  departure  of  the  regi- 
ment. The  intelligence  in  this  instance  proved  to  be 
correct,  for  on  the  appointed  day  the  little  colonel 
marched  his  command  into  the  city,  Avhere  it  was  duly 
embarked  on  the  cars  for  New  York.  It  was  a  day  of 
excitement,  for  the  streets  of  the  city  were  thronged 
with  people,  whose  cheers  and  applause  were  the  benison 
with  which  the  regiment  went  forth  to  do  and  to  die  for 
the  nation.  Tom  was  delighted  with  this  warm  recep- 
tion, but  more  by  meeting  his  mother  and  his  brother 
and  sisters  at  the  station.  It  was  a  joyous  and  yet  a 
sad  meeting.  Mrs.  Somers  wept ;  and  what  mother 
would  not  weep  to  see  her  son  go  forth  to  encounter  the 
perils  of  the  battle-field,  and  the  greater  perils  of  the  camp  ? 
10 


IIQ  THE   SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

It  was  a  sad  parting ;  and  many  a  mother's  heart  was 
toru  with  anguish  on  that  day,  when  she  pressed  her 
noble  boy  to  her  bosom,  for  the  hist  time,  as  she  gave 
him  to  his  country.  Cold,  stern  men,  who  had  never 
wept  before,  wept  'then  —  the  flesh  that  was  in  their 
stony  hearts  yielded  its  unwilling  tribute  to  nature  and 
affection. 

' "  All  aboard !  "  shouted  the  officers,  when  the  train 
was  ready  to  depart. 

"  God  bless  you,  my  boy  !  "  sobbed  Mrs.  Somers,  as 
she  kissed  her  sou.  "  Be  good  and  true,  and  don't  for- 
get to  read  your  Testament." 

"  Good  by,  mother,"  was  all  that  Tom  could  say,  as 
he  grasped  his  musket,  which  John  had  been  holding  for 
him,  and  rushed  into  the  car. 

The  train  moved  off  amid  the  cheers  of  the  thou- 
sands who  had  gathered  to  witness  their  departure.  At 
this  moment,  more  than  ever  before,  the  soldier  boy 
realized  what  he  liad  done  when  he  entered  the  service. 
He  listened  to  the  shouts  of  the  multitude,  but  he  was 
sad  and  silent.  He  sank  into  his  seat,  and  gave  himself 
up  to  the  anguish  of  the  hour.  On  and  on  dashed  the 
train,  and  his  thoughts  still  dwelt  upon  the  home  and  the 
mother  he  had  left  behind  him. 

Our  readers  can  better  imagine  than  we  can  describe 
the  feelings  of  the  soldier  boy  during  that  long  night. 
The  regiment  arrived  in  New  York  at  half  past  ten  in 


TO.yf   SOME  lis    IX    THE    ARMY 


111 


the  forenoon  of  tlie  following  day,  and  was  escorted  up 
Broadway  by  the  Sous  of  Massachusetts.  At  the  Park, 
it  was  warmly  welcomed  by  the  President  of  the  Sons, 
and  as  the  little  colonel  >vas  a  better  soldier  than  a 
speech-maker,  the  response  was  made  by  the  surgeon. 
By  this  time,  Tom  was  able  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of 
the  occasion,  and  the  flattering  ovation  bestowed  upon 
the  regiment  was  a  source  of  personal  pride  and  satisfac- 
tion. The  little  colonel's  command  was  declared  to  be 
the  best  drilled  and  most  soldierly  body  of  men  which 
had  yet  departed  for  the  battle-fields  of  the  republic. 

The  great  city  was  full  of  wonders  to  the  soldier  boy, 
and  during  the  few^  hours  he  remained  there,  he  was  in 
a  constant  whirl  of  excitement.  If  the  mission  before 
him  had  been  less  grand  and  sublime,  he  could  have 
wished  to  s|5fend  a  few  days  in  exploring  the  wonders  of 
the  great  metropolis  ;  but  the  stupendous  events  that 
loomed  up  in  the  future,  prophetic  even  to  the  inexpe- 
rienced  eye  of  youth,  engrossed  all  his  thoughts.  lie 
partook  of  the  bountiful  collation  in  the  Park,  and  was 
content  to  march  on  to  scenes  more  thrilling  and  exciting 
than  the  tumult  of  the  busy  city. 

The  regiment  took  a  steamer,  at  half  past  four,  for 
Elizabethport,  and  thence  proceeded  by  railroad  to  TTash- 
ington,  by  the  way  of  Harrisburg.  Some  portions  of  the 
journey  were  performed  under  the  most  trying  circum- 
stances.    The  men  were  crowded,  like  sheep,  into  unsuit- 


112 


THE   SOLDIER    BOY,   On 


able  cars,  so  that  not  only  were  they  subjected  to  many 
needless  discomforts,  but  their  very  lives  were  endan- 
gered. On  the  way,  two  men  were  crowded  out  of  a 
car,  and,  for  a  time,  were  supposed  to  have  been  killed. 

On  the  2d  of  July,  they  arrived  at  Washington,  and 
Tom  had  an  opportunity  to  see  the  "  city  of  magnificent 
distances,"  of  which  he  had  heard  so  much.  The  regi- 
ment marched  from  the  station,  through  Pennsylvania 
Avenue,  to  their  camp  gi'ound  in  the  rear  of  the  White 
House.  They  were  received  with  enthusiasm  by  the 
people,  but  the  miserable  uniforms  with  which  they  had 
been  supplied,  now  faded  and  dilapidated,  with  the  finish- 
ing touch  of  destruction  given  to  them  by  the  perilous 
journey  they  had  made,  gave  the  politicians  their  first 
lesson  on  the  worthlessness  of  "  shoddy." 

The  regiment  entered  the  grounds  of  the  White  House, 
and  as  it  passed  up  the  avenue.  President  Lincoln  ap- 
peared in  front  of  his  mansion.  The  boys  greeted  him 
with  a  volley  of  stunning  cheers,  which  the  President 
acknowledged  by  a  series  of  bows,  which  were  not  half 
so  ungi-aceful  as  one  might  have  expected  after  reading 
the  descriptions  of  him  contained  in  the  newspapers. 

To  Tom  Somers  the  President  was  a  great  institution, 
and  he  could  scarcely  believe  that  he  was  looking  upon 
the  chief  magistrate  of  this  great  nation.  He  was  filled 
with  boyish  Avonder  and  astonishment ;  but,  after  all,  he 
was  forced  to  admit  that  the  President,  though  a  tall 


TOM   SOME  US    IN    THE   ARMY. 


118 


specimen  of  humanity,  looked  very  much  like  the  rest 
of  mankind  —  to  borrow  a  phrase  from  one  of  his  illus- 
trious predecessors. 

Tom  was  too  tired  to  wonder  long  at  the  grandeur  of 
the  Capitol,  and  the  simple  magnificence  of  the  President. 
The  tents  Avere  pitched,  and  the  weary  men  were  allowed 
a  season  of  rest.  In  a  couple  of  days,  however,  our 
soldier  boy  was  ^'  as  good  as  new." 

"  Come,  Tom,  it  is  about  time  for  you  to  see  some- 
thing of  tlie  city,"  said  Ben  Lethbridge,  one  afternoon, 
after  the  regiment  had  become  fairly  settled  in  its  new 
quarters. 

''  I  should  like  to  take  a  tramp.  There  are  lots  of  con- 
gressmen here,  and  I  should  like  to  know  what  they  look 
like,"  replied  Tom.  "  I  haven't  been  outside  the  lines 
since  we  came  here." 

''  I  have  :  and  I'm  going  again  !  Fred  and  I  mean  to 
have  a  good  time  to-day.     AVill  you  go  ?  " 

''  Have  you  got  a  pass?" 

*'  A  pass  I  AVhat  a  stupid  !  What  do  you  want  of  a 
pass?     You  can't  get  one.     They  Avou't  give  any." 

"  Then  we  can't  go,  of  course." 

*'  Bah  !  Wliat  a  great  calf  you  are  !  Don't  you 
want  to  cry  again?" 

"  ^^^^  you  needn't  say  crij  to  me  again  as  long  as  you 
live,"  added  Tom.  ''  If  you  do,  I'll  give  you  something 
to  cry  for." 

10* 


114  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

Tom  did  not  like  the  style  of  remark  which  the  othef 
had  adopted.  He  was  angry,  and,  as  he  spoke,  his  fist 
involuntarily  clinched,  and  his  eye  looked  fierce  and  de- 
termined. 

"  Come,  come,  Tom  ;  don't  bristle  up  so.  If  you  are 
a  man,  just  show  that  you  are,  and  come  along  with  us." 

"  I  say,  Ben,  I  want  to  know  who's  a  baby  or  a  calf,  you 
or  I,  before  we  go.  I  won't  stand  any  more  of  your  lip." 
,  "Will  you  go  Avith  us?"  demanded  Ben,  Avho  was 
rather  disposed  to  dodge  the  issue. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  calling  me  a  calf  and  a  baby? 
And  this  isn't  the  first  time  you've  done  it." 

"  Don't  you  know  that  every  man  in  the  regiment  has 
been  all  over  the  city,  and  without  any  pass?  When  I 
ask  you  to  go,  you  begin  to  talk  about  a  pass." 

"  I  choose  to  obey  orders,"  replied  Tom. 

"  O,  you  daresn't  go  with  us." 

"  Come  along  !  "  said  Tom,  avIio  had  not  yet  learned  to 
bear  the  taunts  of  his  companion. 

"  Get  your  pail." 

Tom  got  his  pail,  and  Avas  immediately  joined  by  Fred 
and  Ben,  each  of  Avhom  was  also  supplied  with  a  pail. 
There  Avas  no  Avater  to  be  had  Avithin  the  camp  ground, 
and  the  men  Avere  obliged  to  bring  it  in  pails  from  the 
hydrants  in  the  street.  A  pail,  therefore,  Avas  quite  as 
good  as  a  Avritten  document  to  enable  them  to  pass  the 
guard. 


TOM   SO  ME  US    IX    THE   ARMY.  Jj^ 

The  party  thus  provided  had  no  diflicuhy  in  passing  the 
sentinels.  At  a  convenient  phice  outside  the  line,  they 
concealed  the  pails,  and,  for  three  hours,  roamed  at  will 
over  the  city. 

'•  No^^-,  Tom,  you  wanted  to  see  the  congressmen?" 
said  Ben,  after  they  had  '^  done  "  the  city  pretty  thor- 
oughly. 

"  Yes,  but  I  have  seen  them  at  the  Capitol." 

'•  But  don't  you  want  to  get  nearer  to  them,  and  hear 
ihemtalk?" 

''  Well,  I  should  like  to." 

"  Come  with  us,  then." 

Ben  led  the  way  down  the  avenue,  and  entered  a 
building  not  far  from  the  railroad  station.  After  passing 
through  a  long,  narrow  entry,  they  ascended  a  flight  of 
stairs,  at  the  head  of  Avhich  the  conductor  gave  two  raps. 
The  door  was  opened  by  a  negro,  and  they  were  invited 
to  enter.  At  a  table  in  the  middle  of  the  room  was 
seated  a  foppish-looking  man,  who  held  in  his  hand  a 
silver  box.  As  he  turned  it,  Tom  saw  that  it  contained 
a  pack  of  cards. 

"Where  are  your  congressmen?"  asked  the  soldier 
boy,  whose  eyes  had  been  opened  by  the  appearance  of 
the  cards. 

"  They  will  be  here  pretty  soon,"  replied  Ben. 

The  foppish  man  looked  at  his  watch,  and  declared 
ihey  would  come  in  the  course  of  five  or  ten  minutes. 


IIQ  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

He  then  took  the  cards  out  of  the  box,  aud,  after  shuf- 
fling them,  returned  them  to  their  place.  Fred  placed  a 
"  quarter  "  on  tlie  table  ;  the  gambler  put  another  by  its 
side,  and  drew  out  a  card  from  the  silver  case.  Tom  did 
not  understand  the  game  ;  but  his  companion  put  the 
quarters  in  his  pocket. 

"  See  that,  Tom  !  "  said  he.     "  Got  any  money? " 

"  If  I  have  I  shall  keep  it." 

"  Put  down  a  quarter,  and  make  another." 

"  No,  sir  !  I'm  no  gambler  !  "  replied  Tom,  with 
emphasis. 

"  Quite  respectable,  I  assure  you,"  added  the  blackleg 
at  the  table. 

''  I'm  going."  said  Tom,  decidedly. 

"  Baby  !  "  sneered  Ben.     "  Afraid  to  play  !  " 

"  I  li-ont  play  !      I'm  going." 

The  negro  opened  the  door,  and  he  passed  out.  Con- 
trary to  his  expectation,  he  was  followed  by  Fred  and 
Ben. 

"  Baby  is  afraid  of  cards  I "  sneered  Ben,  as  they 
passed  through  the  long  entry. 

"  Afraid  of  cards,  but  not  afraid  of  you,"  replied  Tom, 
as  he  planted  a  heavy  blow  between  the  eyes  of  his  com- 
panion. 

Ben  Lethbridge  returned  the  blow,  and  it  cost  him 
another,  and  there  was  a  prospect  of  quite  a  lively 
skirmish  in  the  entry  •    Wt  Fred  Pemberton  interposed 


TOM  SOMEBS   IX    THE   ARMY. 


117 


his  good  offices,  and  effected  a  compromise,  which,  like 
most  of  the  political  compromises,  was  only  the  post- 
ponement of  the  conflict. 

'•  I  told  you  not  to  call  me  'baby,'  again,"  said  Tom, 
as  they  passed  out  of  the  building.  "  I  will  convince 
you  before  I  am  done  that  I'm  not  a  baby." 

Ben  found  it  convenient  to  offer  no  reply  to  this  plain 
statement  of  facts,  and  the  three  soldiers  made  their  way 
back  to  the  camp,  and,  having  obtained  their  pails  and 
filled  them  with  water  at  the  hydr-i'J^.  they  passed  the 
guard  without  a  question. 


Xl8  THE   SOLDIER   BOY,   OR 


CHAPTER    XII. 


ON    TO    RICHMOND. 


■^4  T    SO    happeued   that   Ben    Lethbridge,  probably 

^1  satisfied  that  it  was  not  the  fist  of  a  baby 
^vhich  had  partially  blackened  both  of  his 
eyes,  and  produced  a  heavy  pain  under  his  left  ear, 
did  not  demand  the  satisfaction  which  was  needed  to 
heal  his  wounded  honor.  The  matter  was  duly  dis- 
cussed in  the  tent  of  Tom's  mess ;  but  our  soldier 
boy,  while  he  professed  to  be  entirely  satisfied,  was 
willing  to  meet  Ben  at  such  time  and  place  as  he 
desired,  and  finish  up  the  affair. 

The  other,  party  was  magnanimous,  and  declared 
that  he  too  was  satisfied ;  and  old  Hapgood  thought 
they  had  better  proceed  no  further  with  the  affair, 
for  both  of  them  might  be  arrested  for  disorderly 
conduct. 

"I  am  satisfied,  Ben;  but.  if  you  ever  call  me  a 
baby  or  a  calf  again,  it  will  all  have  to  be  settled 
over  again,"  said  Tom,  as  he  laid  aside  his  musket, 
which  he  had  been  cleaniuor  during  the  conversation. 


TOM   SOMEIiS    IX    THE    ARMY.  Jjg 

"I  don't  waut  to  quarrel  with  you,  Tom,"  replied 
Ben,  "but  I  wish  you  would  be  a  little  more  like 
the  rest  of  the  fellows." 

"AVliat  do  you  mean  by  that?  I  am  like  the  rest 
of  the   fellows." 

"You  Avouldn't   play  cards." 

"Yes,  I  will  play  cards,  but  I  won't  gamble;  and 
there  isn't  many  fellows  in  the  company  that  will." 

"  Tliat's  so,"  added  Hapgood.  "  I  know  all  about 
that  business.  When  I  went  to  Mexico,  I  lost"  my 
money  as  fast  as  I  got  it,  playing  cards.  Don't 
gamble,  boys." 

"  I  won't,  for  one,"  said  Tom,  with  emphasis. 
"Are  you  going  to   set   up  for  a  soldier-saint,  too?" 
sneered  Ben,  turning  to  the  old  man. 

"  I'm  no  saint,  but  I've  lamed  better  than  to 
gamble." 

"  I  think  you'd  better  stop  drinking  too,"  added  Ben. 
"  Come,     Ben,    you     are     meaner    than    dirt,"     said 
Tom,    indignantly. 

Old  Hapgood  was  a  confirmed  toper.  The  people  in 
Pinchbrook  said  he  was  a  good  man,  but,  they  used  to 
add,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  "  pity  he  drinks." 
It  was  a  sad  pity,  but  he  seemed  to  have  no  power 
over  his  appetite.  The  allusion  of  Ben  to  his  be- 
setting sin  was  cruel  and  mortifying,  for  the  old  man 
had  certainly  tried    to    reform,  and  since  the  regiment 


220  THi.'  SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

left  Boston,  he  liad  not  tasted  the  intoxicating  cup. 
lie  liad  dechired  before  the  mess  tliat  he  had  stoppeii 
drinking ;  so  his  resokition  was  known  to  all  liis 
companions,  though  none  of  them  had  much  confi- 
dence   in    his    ability  to    carry    it    out. 

''  I  didn't  speak  to  you,  Tom  Somers,"  said  Ben, 
sharply. 

'"'  You  said  a  mean  thing  in  my  presence." 

"  By  and  by  we  shall  be  having  a  prayer  meeting  in 
our    tent    every  night." 

''  If  you  are  invited  I  hope  you  will  come,"  added 
Tom,  ''  for  if  prayers  will  do  any  body  any  good, 
they   won't   hurt   you." 

"  If  you  will  take  care  of  yourself,  and  let  me 
alone,  it's  all  I  ask  of  you." 

"  I'm  agreed." 

This  was  about  the  last  of  the  skirmishing  be- 
tween Tom  and  Ben.  The  latter  was  a  little  dis- 
posed to  be  a  bully  ;  and  from  the  time  the  company 
left  Pinchbrook,  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  calling 
Tom  a  baby,  and  other  opprobrious  terms,  till  the 
subject  of  his  sneers  could  endure  them  no  longer. 
Tom  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  could  ob- 
tain respectful  treatment  only  by  the  course  he  had 
adopted.  Perhaps,  if  he  had  possessed  the  requisite 
patience,  he  might  have  attained  the  same  result  by  » 
less  repulsive  and  more  noble  policy. 


TO.U   SOMEBS    IX    THE   ARMY.  ^21 

The  regiment  rcmaiueil  in  Washington  about  a  fort- 
night. The  capital  was  no  longer  considered  to  be  in 
danger.  A  hirge  body  of  troops  had  been  massed  in 
and  around  the  city,  and  the  rebels'  boast  that  they  would 
soon  capture  Washington  was  no  longer  heeded.  Fear 
and  anxiety  had  given  place  to  hope  and  expectation. 
"  On  to  Richmond ! "  was  the  cry  sounded  by  the 
newspapers,  and  repeated  by  the  people.  The  army 
of  newly-fledged  soldiers  was  burning  with  eagerness 
to  be  led  against  the  rebels.  "  On  to  Richmond !  " 
shouted  citizens  and  soldiers,  statesmen  and  politicians. 
Some  cursed  and  some  deprecated  the  cautious  slow- 
ness of  the  old  general  who    had  never  been  defeated. 

"  On  to  Richmond !  "  cried  the  boys  in  Tom's  regi- 
ment, and  none  more  earnestly  than  he. 

"  Don't  hurry  old  Scott.  He  knows  what  he  is 
about.  I  know  something  about  this  business,  for  I've 
seen  old  Scott  where  the  bullets  flew  thicker  'n  snow 
flakes  at  Christmas,"  was  the  oft-repeated  reply  of  Hap- 
good,  the  veteran  of  Company  K. 

The  movement  which  had  been  so  long  desired  and 
expected  was  made  at  last,  and  the  regiment  struck 
its  tents,  and  proceeded  over  Long  Bridge  into  Virginia. 
The  first  camp  was  at  Shuter's  Hill,  near  Alexandria. 

''  Now  we    are  in  for   it,"    said  Tom  Somers,  when 
the    mess    gathered    in    their  tent    after  the  camp  was 
formed.     "  I  hope  we  shall  not  remain  here  long." 
11 


122  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

"  Don't  be  ill  a  hurry,  my  brave  boy,"  said  old  Hap- 
good.     ''  AVe  may  stop  here  a  mouth." 

"  I  hope  not." 

"  Don't  hope  any  thing  about  it,  Tom.  Take  thinga 
as  they  come." 

But  tlie  impatience  of  the  soldier  boy  was  soon  re- 
lieved;  for  at  daylight  on  the  morning  of  the  IGth 
of  July,  the  regiment  was  routed  out,  the  tents  were 
struck,  and  at  nine  o'clock  they  took  up  the  line  of 
march  to  the  southward.  It  was  ''  on  to  Richmond," 
in  earnest,  now,  and  merrily  marched  the  men,  who 
little  knew  what  trials  and  sufferings,  what  scenes  of 
blood  and  death,  lay  in  their  path. 

The  little  colonel's  command  had  been  put  in  Frank- 
lin's brigade,  which  formed  a  part  of  Ileintzelman's 
division;  but  little  did  Tom  or  his  fellow-soldiers 
know  of  any  thing  but  their  own  regiment.  The 
"  sacred  soil "  of  Virginia  seemed  to  be  covered  with 
Federal  soldiers,  and  whichever  way  he  turned,  col- 
umns of  troops  might  be  seen,  all  obedient  to  the  one 
grand  impulse  of  the  loyal  nation  —  '*■  On  to  Rich- 
mond." 

The  great  wagons,  gun  carriages,  and  caissons  roll- 
ing slowly  along,  the  rattling  drums,  with  here  and 
there  the  inspiring  strains  of  a  band,  the  general  officers, 
with  their  staffs,  were  full  of  interest  and  excitement 
to  the  soldier  boy  •,   "^nd  though  the  business  before  hir% 


TOM   SOMEUS    IX    1111.    AIIMY.  J 23 

Was  stern  and  terrible,  yet  it  seemed  like  some  great 
pageant,  moving  grandly  along  to  celebrate,  rather 
than    win,    a    glorions    triuni[)]i. 

The  novelty  of  the  movement,  however,  soon  Avorc 
away,  and  it  reqnired  only  a  few  honrs  to  convince 
the  inexperienced  soldiers  in  our  regiment  that  it  was 
no  idle  pageant  in  which  they  were  engaged.  The 
short  intervals  of  rest  which  were  occasionally  allowed 
were  moments  to  be  appreciated.  All  day  long  they 
toiled  upon  their  weary  way,  praying  for  the  night  to 
come,  with  its  coveted  hours  of  repose.  The  night  did 
come,  but  it  brought  no  rest  to  the  weary  and  foot- 
sore   soldiers. 

Tom  Avas  terribly  fatigued.  His  knapsack,  which 
had  been  light  upon  his  buoyant  frame  in  the  morn- 
ing, now  seemed  to  weigh  two  hundred  pounds,  while 
his  musket  had  grown  proportionally  heavy.  Hour 
>fter  hour,  in  the  darkness  of  that  gloomy  night,  he 
trudged  on,  keeping  his  place  in  the  ranks  with  a 
resolution  wdiich  neither  the  long  hours  nor  the  weary 
miles   could  break  down. 

''  I  can't  stand  this  much  longer,"  whined  Ben  Leth- 
bridge.  "  I  shall  drop  pretty  soon,  and  die  by  the 
roadside." 

'•  Xo,  you  won't,"  added  Hapgood.  "  Stick  to  it  a 
little   while  longer ;   never  say  die." 

"I   can't    stand   it.'* 


124  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

"'  Yes,  you  can.  Only  think  you  can,  and  you  can,*' 
added  the  veteran, 

''  What  do  they  think  we  are  made  off  ?  We  can't 
inarch  all  day  and  all  night.  I  wish  I  was  at 
home." 

*'  I  wi.-^h  I  hadn't  come,"  said  Fred  Pemberton. 

"  Cheer  up !  cheer  up,  boys.  Stick  to  it  a  little 
longer,"    said   the   veteran. 

It  was  three  o'clock  the  next  morning  before  they  were 
permitted  to  halt,  when  the  boys  rolled  themselves  up 
in  their  blankets,  and  dropped  upon  the  ground.  It 
was  positive  enjoyment  to  Tom,  and  he  felt  happy ; 
for  rest  was  happiness  when  the  body  was  all  worn  out. 
A  thought  of  the  cottage  and  of  his  mother  crossed 
his  mind,  and  he  dropped  asleep  to  dream  of  the  joys 
of  home. 

Short  and  sweet  was  that  blessed  time  of  rest ;  for  at 
four  o'clock,  after  only  one  brief  hour  of  repose,  the 
regiment  was  turned  out  again,  and  resumed  its  weary 
march  to  the  southward.  But  that  short  interval  of 
rest  Avas  a  fountain  of  strength  to  Tom,  and  without 
a  murmur  he  took  his  place  by  the  side  of  his  grum* 
bling  companions.  Ben  and  Fred  were  disgusted  with 
the  army,  and  wanted  to  go  back  ;  but  that  was  im- 
possible. 

Again,  for  weary  hours,  they  toiled  upon  the  march. 
They  passed  Fairfax,  and  encamped  near  the  railroad 


TOM    SOMERS    I\    THE    AliAfY.  125 

BtatioQ,  where  a  full  night's  rest  was  allowed  them. 
By  the  advice  of  Hapgood,  Tom  went  to  a  brook,  and 
washed  his  aching  feet  in  cold  water.  The  veteran 
campaigner  gave  him  other  useful  hints,  which  were 
of  great  service  to  him.  That  night  he  had  as  good 
reason  to  bless  the  memory  of  the  man  who  invented 
sleep  as  ever  Sancho  Panza  had,  and  every  hour  was 
fully  improved. 

At  six  o'clock,  the  next  morning,  the  regiment 
marched  again.  Tom's  legs  were  stiff,  but  he  felt  so 
much  better  than  on  the  preceding  day,  that  he  began 
to  think  that  he  could  stand  any  thing.  In  the  early 
part  of  the  afternoon  his  ears  were  saluted  by  a  new 
sound — one  which  enabled  him  more  fully  than  before 
to  realize  the  nature  of  the  mission  upon  which  he  had 
been  sent.  It  was  the  roar  of  cannon.  On  that  day 
was  fought  the  battle  of  Blackburn's  Ford  ;  and  when 
the  regiment  reached  its  halting-place  at  Centreville,  the 
etory  of  the  fight  was  told  by  enthusiastic  lips.  Massa- 
chusetts men  had  stood  firm  and  resolute  before  the 
artillery  and  musketry  of  the  rebels,  and  every  man 
who  heard  the  story  was  proud  that  he  hailed  from 
the  Old  Bay  State,  and  panted  for  the  time  Avhen  he 
might  show  himself  worthy  of  his  origin,  and  true  to 
the   traditions   of  the  past. 

The  regiment  lay  in  camp  the  two  following  days, 
and  the  men  had  an  opportunity  to  recover  in  some 
11* 


126  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOr,   OR 

measure  from  the  fatigues  of  their  first  severe  march. 
Visions  of  glory  and  victory  were  beginning  to  dawn 
upon  them.  They  had  listened  to  the  cannon  of  the 
enemy,  and  they  knew  that  the  rebels  were  not  many 
miles  distant  in  front  of  tliem.  A  few  days,  perliaps  a  few 
hours,  -would  elapse  before  the  terrible  conflict  would 
commence.  Some  of  those  manly  forms  must  soon 
sleep  in  the  soldier's  grave ;  some  of  those  beating 
hearts  must  soon  cease  to  beat  forever ;  but  still  the 
brave  and  the  true  longed  for  the  hour  that  would 
enable  them  to  "  strike  home "  for  the  nation's  sal- 
vation. 


TOAf   SOMKRS    IX    THE    AliATY.  127 


CHAPTER    XIII 


THE    BATTLE    OF    BULL    RUN. 


...  UMBLE  out!  Tumble  out!"  shouted  the  ser- 
■  I  geant,   who  "was  iu  the  mess  with    the  soldiers 

vj-/  we  have  introduced.  ''  Reveille !  Don't  you 
hear    it?" 

••  liut   it    isn't  morning,"   growled  Ben  Lethbridge. 

'•  I  haven't  been  asleep  more  than  an  hour  or  two,'* 
snarled  Fred  Pemberton. 

"'  Shut  up  your  heads,  and  turn  out ! "  said  the 
sergeant. 

It  was  the  morning  of  the  eventful  twenty-first  of 
July,  and  it  was  only  two  o'clock  when  the  regiment 
was  roused  from  its  slumbers  ;  but  there  was  no  great 
hardship  in  this  fact,  for  most  of  the  men  had  been 
sleeping  the  greater  portion  of  the  time  during  the 
preceding  two  days.  Tom  Somers  was  ready  to  take 
his  place  m  the  line  in  a  fcAv  moments. 

"  Come,  fellows,  hurry  up,"  said  he  to  his  tardy 
companions.  "  The  time  has  come,  and,  I  tell  you, 
there'll  be  music  before  many  hours." 


128  ^-^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OB 

"Where  are  we  going,  Tom?  Have  you  any  idea?" 
asked  Fred. 

"  Going  down  to  Manassas  Junction,  I  suppose. 
That's  where  the  rebels  arc." 

"Do  you  suppose  we  shall  get  into  a  fight?" 
asked  Ben. 

"  I  don't  know  ;  I  hope  so." 

"  80  do  I,"  returned  Ben,  faintly  ;  '•  but  I  don't  like 
to  be  broke  of  my  rest  in  this  way." 

Tom,  full  of  excited  anticipations  in  regard  to  the 
events  of  the  day,  laughed  heartily  at  this  reply,  and 
left  the  tent.  The  regiment  was  formed  in  line,  but 
there  were  two  vacancies  in  the  section  to  which  he 
belonged.  Fred  and  Ben  had  answered  to  their  names 
at  roll  call.  On  some  pretence  they  had  asked  permis- 
sion to  leave  the  line  for  a  few  moments,  and  that 
was  the  last  that  had  been  seen  of  them. 

"  Where  do  suppose  they  are  ?  "  said  Tom  to 
Hapgood. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  hain't  got  much  confidence  in 
Ben's  pluck,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  had  run 
away." 

"  But  that  is  desertion." 

"  That's  just  what  you  may  call  it ;  and  I've  seen 
men  shot  for  it." 

The  regiment  remained  in  line  several  hours  before 
the  order  came  to  move.     At  daylight,  while  the  men 


TOM   SOMERS   /A'    THE   ARifT.  ^29 

Vrere  stiU  standing  in  the  road,  four  soldiers,  attended 
by  a  3tat}'  ollicer,  conducted  the  two  missing  men  of 
Company  K  into  the  presence  of  the  regiment. 

"  These  men  say  they  belong  to  your  regiment," 
faid  the  otHcer,  saluting  the  little  colonel. 

Captain  Benson  immediately  claimed  them,  and  Fred 
and  Ben  were  ordered  into  the  ranks. 

'"Cowards  —  are  you?"  said  the  captain.  "You 
Bhall  take  your  places  in  the  ranks,  and  at  the  right 
time  we  will  settle  this  case." 

'"  I  enlisted  without  my  father's  consent,  and  you 
can't  hold  me  if  I  don't  choose  to  stay,"  replied  Fred 
Pemberton. 

"  Next  time  you  must  ask  your  father  before  you 
come.     It  is  too  late  to  repent  now." 

"  I'm  going  home." 

''No,  you're  not.  Sergeant,  if  either  of  those  men 
attempt  to  leave  the  ranks  again,  shoot  them  I  "  said 
the  captain. 

Fred  and  Ben  took  their  places  in  the  ranks  amid 
the  laughter  and  jeers  of  the  company. 

"  Wlio's  the  baby  now  ?  "    said  Bob  Dornton. 

"You  have  disgraced  the  company,"  added  old -Hap- 
good.  "  I  didn't  think  you  -would  run  away  before 
the  battle  commenced." 

"  I  shall  keep  both  eyes  on  you,  my  boys,  and  if 
jou  skulk  again,  I'll  obey  orders  —  by  the  Lord  Harry, 


130  ^^^    SOLDIER   BOY,    OR 

I  will!"  said  the  sergeant,  as  he  glanced  at  the  lock 
of  his  musket.  "  Company  K  isn't  going  to  be  laughed 
at  for  your  cowardice." 

At  six  o'clock  the  order  came  for  the  brigade  to 
march.  It  now  consisted  of  only  three  regiments,  for 
the  time  of  one,  composed  of  three  months'  men,  had  ex- 
pired while  at  Centreville  ;  and  though  requested  and 
importuned  to  remain  a  few  days  longer,  they  basely 
withdrew,  even  while  they  were  on  the  very  verge  of 
the  battle-field.  This  regiment  left,  and  carried  with 
it  the  scorn  and  contempt  of  the  loyal  and  true  men, 
who  were  as  ready  to  fight  the  battles  of  their  coun- 
try on  one  day  as  on  another. 

The  men  knew  they  were  going  to  battle  now,  for  the 
enemy  was  only  a  few  miles  distant.  The  soldier  boy's 
heart  was  full  of  hope.  He  knew  not  what  a  battle 
was  ;  he  could  form  no  adequate  conception  of  the  ter- 
rible scene  which  was  soon  to  open  upon  his  view.  He 
prayed  and  trusted  that  he  might  be  able  to  do  his  duty 
with  courage  and  fidelity.  To  say  that  he  had  no  doubts 
and  fears  would  be  to  say  that  he  was  not  human. 

As  the  brigade  toiled  slowly  along,  he  tried  to  pic- 
ture the  scene  which  was  before  him,  and  thus  make 
himself  familiar  ^^dth  its  terrors  before  he  was  actually 
called  to  confront  them.  He  endeavored  to  imagine  the 
sounds  of  screaming  shells  and  whistling  bullets,  that 
the  reality,  when  it   came,  might  not  appall  him.     He 


TOM   SOMERS    IX    THE   AIlAfY.  13l 

thought  of  his  compauions  dropping  dead  arouud  him, 
of  his  frieuds  inuii^ded  by  bayonets  and  cannon  shot ; 
he  painted  the  most  terrible  picture  of  a  battle  which 
his  imagination  could  conjure  up,  hoping  in  this  man- 
ner to   be  prepared  for  the  worst. 

The  day  was  hot,  and  the  sun  poured  down  his 
scorching  rays  upon  the  devoted  soldiers  as  they  pur- 
sued their  weary  march.  They  were  fatigued  by  con- 
tinued exertion,  and  some  of  the  weary  ones,  when  the 
sun  approached  the  meridian,  began  to  hope  the  great 
battle  would  not  take  place  on  that  day.  Tom  Somers, 
nearly  worn  out  by  the  tedious  march,  and  half  famished 
after  the  scanty  breaklast  of  hard  bread  he  had  eaten 
before  daylight,  began  to  feel  that  he  was  in  no  con- 
dition to  face  the  storm  of  bullets  which  he  had  been 
imagining. 

No  orders  came  to  halt  at  noon,  though  the  crowded 
roads  several  times  secured  them  a  welcome  rest :  but 
on  marched  the  weary  soldiers,  till  the  roar  of  cannon 
broke  upon  their  ears  ;  and  as  they  moved  farther  on, 
the  rattling  volleys  of  musketry  were  heard,  denoting 
that  the  battle  had  already  commenced.  These  notes 
of  strife  were  full  of  inspiration  to  the  loyal  and  pa- 
triotic in  the  columns.  A  new  life  was  breathed  into 
them.  They  were  enthusiastic  in  the  good  cause,  and 
their  souls  immediately  became  so  big  that  what  haO 
been  body  before  seemed  to  become  spirit  now.     The^ 


132  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

forgot  their  empty  stomachs  and  their  weary  limbs. 
The  music  of  battle,  wild  aud  terrible  as  it  was  to 
these  untutored  soldiers,  charmed  away  the  weariuess 
of  the  body,  aud,  to  the  quickstep  of  thimderiug  cauuon 
aud  crashing  musketry,  they  pressed  ou  with  elastic 
tread  to  the  horrors   before  them. 

Tom  felt  that  he  had  suddenly  and  miraculously  been 
made  over  anew.  He  could  not  explain  the  reason,  but 
his  legs  had  ceased  to  ache,  his  feet  to  be  sore,  and 
his  musket  and  liis  knapsack  were  deprived  of  their 
superfluous  weight. 

"  God  be  Avith  me  in  this  battle  ! "  he  exclaimed 
to  himself  a  dozen  times.  "  God  give  me  strength 
and  courage !  " 

Animated  by  his  trust  in  Him  who  will  always  sus- 
tain those  who  confide  in  him,  the  soldier  boy  pressed 
on,  determined  not  to  disgrace  the  name  he  bore.  The 
terrible  sounds  became  more  and  more  distinct  as  the 
regiment  advanced,  and  in  about  two  hours  after  the 
battle  had  opened,  the  brigade  arrived  at  the  field  of 
operations.  One  regiment  was  immediately  detached 
and  sent  off  in  one  direction,  while  the  other  two  were 
ordered  to  support  a  battery  on  a  hill,  from  which  it  was 
belching  foi'ih  a  furious  storm  of  shells  upon  the  rebels. 

The  little  colonel's  sword  gleamed  in  the  ail,  as  he 
?ave  the  order  to  march  on  the  doubie-quick  to  ihe 
position  assigned  to  him. 


TOM  SO  ME  US    IN    THE    ARMY.  133 

"  Now,  Tom,  steady,  aud  thiuk  of  uotliiug  but  God 
aud  your  couutry,"  said  old  Hapgood,  as  the  regiment 
eommeuced  its  rapid  march.  "  1  kuow  something 
about  this  business,  aud  I  can  tell  you  we  shall  have 
hot  work  before  we  get  througli  witli  it." 

"•  AVhere  are  the  rebels?  I  don't  see  any,"  asked 
Tom,  who  found  that  his  ideas  of  the  manner  in  which 
a  battle  is  fought  were  very  much  at  fault. 

"  You  will  see  them  very  soon.  They  are  in  their 
breastworks.  There !  Look  down  there !  '  exclaimed 
/he  veteran  as  the  regiment  reached  a  spot  which 
commanded  a  full  view  of  the  battle. 

Tom  looked  upon  the  fearful  scene.  The  roar  of 
the  artillery  and  the  crash  of  the  small  arms  were 
absolutely  stunning.  He  saw  men  fall,  and  lie  mo- 
tionless on  the  ground,  where  they  were  trampled 
upon  by  the  horses,  and  crushed  beneath  the  wheels  of 
cannon  and  caisson.  But  the  cry  was,  that  the  army 
of  the  Union  had  w^on  the  field,  and  it  inspired  him 
with  new  zeal  and  new  courage. 

Scarcely  had  the  remnant  of  the  brigade  reached 
the  riojht  of  the  battery,  before  they  were  ordered  t« 
charge  down  the  valley,  by  Colonel  Franklin,  the  acting 
brigadier.  They  were  executing  the  command  with  a 
dash  and  vigor  that  would  have  been  creditable  to 
veterans,  when  they  were  ordered  to  cross  the  ravine, 
and  support  the  Fire  Zouaves.  The  movement  was 
12 


134  '^^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

made,  aud  Todi  soon  found  himself  iu  the  thickest  of 
the  fight.  Shot  aud  shell  were  tlyiug  iu  every  direc- 
tion, aud  the  bullets  hissed  like  hailstones  around 
him. 

In  spite  of  all  his  preparations  for  this  awful  scene, 
his  heart  rose  up  into  his  throat.  His  eyes  were 
blinded  by  the  volumes  of  rolling  smoke,  and  his  mind 
confused  by  the  rapid  succession  of  incidents  that  were 
transpiring  around  him.  The  pictures  he  had  painted 
were  sunlight  and  golden  compared  with  the  dread 
reality.  Dead  and  dying  men  strewed  the  ground  in 
every  direction.  Wounded  horses  were  careering  on 
a  mad  course  of  destruction,  trampling  the  wounded 
and  the  dead  beneath  their  feet.  Tlie  hoarse  shouts 
of  the  officers  were  heard  above  the  roar  of  battle. 
The  scene  mocked  all  the  attempts  which  the  soldier 
boy  had  made  to  imagine  its  horrors. 

In  front  of  the  regiment  were  the  famous  Fire 
Zouaves,  no  longer  guided  and  controlled  by  the  mas- 
ter genius  of  Ellsworth.  They  fought  like  tigers,  fu- 
riously, madly ;  but  all  discipline  had  ceased  among 
them,  and  they  rushed  wildly  to  the  right  and  the 
left,  totally  heedless  of  their  officers.  They  fought  like 
demons,  and  as  Tom  saw  them  shoot  down,  hew  down, 
or  bayonet  the  hapless  rebels  who  came  within  their 
reach,  it  seemed  to  him  as  though  they  had  lost  their 
humanity,  and  been  transformed  into  fiends. 


TOM   SOMEllS    jy    THE   AliAfY.  135 

As  soon  as  the  regiment  reached  its  position,  the 
order  was  given  to  lire.  Tom  found  this  a  happy  re- 
lief; and  when  he  had  discharged  his  musket  a  few  times, 
all  thoughts  of  the  horrors  of  the  scene  forsook  him. 
He  no  longer  saw  the  dead  and  the  dying ;  he  no  longer 
heard  the  appalling  roar  of  battle.  He  had  become  a 
part  of  the  scene,  instead  of  an  idle  spectator.  He  was 
sending  the  bolt  of  death  into  the  midst  of  the  enemiea 
of  his  country. 

*'  Bravo  !  Good  boy,  Tom,"  said  old  Hapgood,  who 
seemed  to  be  as  much  at  ease  as  when  he  had  coun- 
selled patience  and  resignation  in  the  quiet  of  the 
tent.     ''  Don't  fire  too  high,  Tom." 

"  I've  got  the  idea,"  replied  the  soldier  boy.  "  I 
begin  to  feel  quite  at  home." 

*•  O,  you'll  do ;  and  I  knew  you  would  from  the 
first." 

The  shouts  of  victory  which  had  sounded  over  the 
field  were  full  of  inspiration  to  the  men  ;  but  at  the 
moment  when  the  laurels  seemed  to  be  resting  securely 
upon  our  banners,  the  rebel  line  moved  forward  with 
irresistible  fury.  Tom,  at  one  instant,  as  he  cast  hii 
eye  along  the  line,  found  himself  flanked  on  either 
Bide  by  his  comrades  ;  at  the  next  there  was  a  wild, 
indescribable  tramp  and  roar,  and  he  found  himself 
alone.  The  regiment  was  scattered  in  every  direction, 
and    he    did    not    see    a    single    man   Whom    he    knew. 


136  ^^^    SOLDJEIi    BOY,    OR 

There  was  a  moving  mass  of  Federal  soldiers  all  around 
him.  The  Zouaves  had  been  forced  back,  and  the  cry 
of  victory  had  given  place  to  the  ominous  sounds 
which  betokened  a  defeat,  if  not  a  rout. 

The  rebels  had  been  reenforced,  and  had  hurled  theii 
fresh  legions  upon  our  exhausted  troops,  Avho  could  no 
longer  roll  back  the  masses  that  crowded  upon  them. 
The  day  Avas  lost. 

Tom,  bewildered  by  this  sudden  and  disastrous  re- 
sult, moved  back  witli  the  crowds  around  him.  Men 
had  ceased  to  be  brave  and  firm ;  they  were  fleeing 
in  mortal  terror  before  the  victorious  battalions  that 
surged  against  them. 

"  It's  all  up  with  us,  my  lad,"  said  a  panting 
Zouave.     ''  Run  for  your  life.     Come  along  with  me." 

Tom  followed  the  Zouave  towards  the  woods,  the 
storm  of  bullets  still  rainino'   destruction   around  them. 


TOM   SOME  lis    /\    THE   ARMY.  13; 


CHAPTER    XIV, 


AFTER   THE  BATTLE. 


/^j^OM  SOMERS  floated  Avitli  the  tide  of  Immanitj 
/I  that  was  setting  away  from  the  scene  of  disaster 
vj/  and  defeat.  Tlie  panic  that  prevailed  was  even 
more  fearful  than  the  battle,  for  wounded  and  dying  men 
were  mercilessly  trodden  down  by  the  feet  of  the  horses, 
and  run  over  by  the  wheels  of  the  cannon  and  the  bag- 
gage wagons.  Though  the  battle  was  ended,  the  rebels 
still  poured  storms  of  shot  and  shell  into  the  retreating, 
panic-stricken  host. 

Tom  did  not  know  where  to  go,  for  there  were 
panic  and  death  on  all  sides  of  him.  The  soldiers  were 
flying  in  every  direction,  some  of  them  into  the  very 
arms  of  their  remorseless  enemies.  But  the  woods 
seemed  to  promise  the  most  secure  retreat  from  the  fury 
of  the  Black  Horse  Cavalry,  which  was  now  sweeping 
over  the  battle-field.  The  Zouave  ran  in  this  direction, 
and  our  soldier  boy  followed  him.  Now  that  the  excite- 
ment of  the  conflict  was  over,  the  enthusiasm  which  had 
buoyed  him  up  began  to  subside.  The  day  was  lost; 
12* 


jgg  THE   SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

all  hopes  of  glory  had  fled  ;  aud  a  total  defeat  and  rout 
were  not  calculated  to  add  much  strength  to  his  over- 
tasked limbs. 

He  was  nearly  used  up,  and  it  was  hard  work  to  run  — 
very  hard  work  ;  and  nothing  but  the  instinct  of  self- 
preservation  enabled  him  to  keep  the  tall  and  wiry  form 
of  the  Zouave  in  sight.  They  reached  the  ravine,  where 
the  water  was  about  three  feet  deep.  The  shot,  and 
shell,  and  bullets  still  fell  in  showers  around  them,  and 
occasionally  one  of  the  luckless  fugitives  was  struck 
down.  They  crossed  the  stream,  and  continued  on  tlieir 
flight.  An  officer  on  horseback  dashed  by  them,  aud 
bade  them  run  with  all  their  might,  or  they  would  be 
taken. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  get  me  some  water !  "  said  a 
rebel,  who  was  wounded  in  the  leg,  to  a  Zouave,  who 
passed  near  him. 

"  You  are  a  rebel,  but  I  will  do  that  for  you,"  replied 
the  Zouave  ;  and  he  gave  him  a  canteen  filled  with  water. 

The  rebel  drank  a  long,  deep  draught,  and  then  levelled 
his  muskeU  at  the  head  of  his  Samaritan  enemy  and 
fired.  This  transaction  had  occupied  but  a  moment,  and 
Tom  saw  the  whole.  His  blood  froze  with  horror  at  the 
unparalleled  atrocity  of  the  act.  The  Zouave,  whom 
Tom  had  followed,  uttered  a  terrible  oath,  and  snatching 
(he  musket  from  the  hands  of  the  soldier  boy,  he  rushed 
upon  the  soulless  miscreant,  and  transfixed  him  upon  the 


TOM    SOMERS    IN    THE    ARMY.  \^\^ 

bayonet.  Uttering  fierce  curses  all  the  time,  he  plunged 
the  bayonet  again  and  again  into  the  vitals  of  the  rebel, 
till  life  was  extinct. 

''  Boy,  1  used  to  be  human  once,"  said  the  Zouave, 
when  he  had  executed  this  summary  justice  upon  the 
rebel ;  ''  but  I'm  not  human  now.     I'm  all  devil." 

**  What  a  wretch  that  rebel  was  ! "  exclaimed  Tom, 
who  seemed  to  breathe  freer  now  that  retribution  had 
overtaken  the  viper. 

"  A  wretch  !  Haven't  you  got  any  bigger  word  than 
that,  boy?  He  was  a  fiend!  But  we  musn't  stop 
here." 

*'  I  thought  the  rebels  were  human." 

''  Human  ?  That  isn't  the  first  time  to-day  I've  seen 
such  a  thing  as  that  done.  Come  along,  my  boy  ;  come 
along." 

Tom  followed  the  Zouave  again  ;  but  he  was  too  much 
exhausted  to  run  any  farther.  Even  the  terrors  of  the 
Black  Horse  Cavalry  could  not  inspire  him  with  strength 
and  courage  to  continue  his  flight  at  any  swifter  pace 
than  a  walk. 

"  I  can  go  no  farther,"  said  he,  at  last. 

"  Yes,  you  can  ;  pull  up  !  pull  up  !  You  will  be  taken 
if  you  stop  here." 

''  I  can't  help  it.    I  can  go  no  farther.    I  am  used  up." 

"  Pull  up,  pull  up,  my  boy  !  " 

*'  I  can't." 


140 


THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 


•'  But  I  don't  want  to  leave  you  here.  They'll  murder 
you  —  cut  your  throat,  like  a  dog." 

''  I  will  hide  myself  in  the  bushes  till  I  get  'a  little 
more  strength." 

"  Try  it  a  little  longer.  You  are  too  good  a  fellow  to 
be  butchered  like  a  calf,"  added  the  generous  Zouave. 

But  it  was  no  use  to  plead  with  him,  for  exhausted 
nature  refused  to  support  him,  and  he  dropped  upon  the 
ground  like  a  log. 

"  Poor  fellow  !  I  would  carry  you  in  my  arms  if  I 
could."  , 

"  Save  yourself  if  you  can,"  replied  Tom,  faintly. 

The  kind-hearted  fireman  was  sorry  to  leave  him,  but 
he  knew  that  one  who  wore  his  uniform  could  expect  no 
mercy  from  the  rebels.  They  had  been  too  terrible  upon 
the  battle-field  to  receive  any  consideration  from  those 
whom  they  had  so  severely  punished.  He  Avas,  therefore, 
unwilling  to  trust  himself  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the 
cavalry,  who  Avere  sweeping  the  fields  to  pick  up  pris- 
oners ;  and  after  asking  Tom's  name  and  regiment,  he 
reluctantly  left  him. 

Tom  had  eaten  nothing  since  daylight  in  the  morning, 
which,  added  to  the  long  march,  and  the  intense  excite- 
ment of  his  first  battle-field,  had  apparently  reduced  him 
to  the  last  extremity.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  he  real- 
ized what  it  was  to  be  a  soldier.  Then  he  thought  of 
his  happy  home  —  of  his  devoted  mother.     What  must 


TOM   SO  ME  US    IX    THE  ARMY. 


141 


she  not  suffer  when  the  telegraph  should  flash  over  the 
wires  the  intelligence  of  the  terrible  disaster  which  had 
overtaken  the  Union  army  !  It  would  be  many  days,  if 
not  weeks  or  months,  before  she  could  know  whether 
he  was  dead  or  alive.  What  anguish  must  she  not 
endure ! 

He  had  but  a  moment  for  thoughts  like  these  before 
he  heard  the  sweep  of  the  rebel  cavalry,  as  they  dashed 
down  the  road  through  the  woods.  He  must  not  remain 
where  he  was,  or  the  record  of  his  earthly  career  would 
soon  be  closed.  On  his  hands  and  knees  he  crawled 
away  from  the  road,  and  rolled  himself  up  behind  a  rot- 
ten log,  just  in  season  to  escape  the  observation  of  the 
cavalrymen  as  they  rode  by  the  spot. 

Here  and  tliere  in  the  woods  were  the  extended  forms 
of  Federals  and  rebels,  who  had  dragged  their  wounded 
bodies  away  from  the  scene  of  mortal  strife  to  breathe 
their  last  in  this  holy  sanctuary  of  nature,  or  to  escape 
from  the  death-dealing  shot,  and  the  mangling  wheels 
that  rumbled  over  the  dead  and  the  dying.  Close  by  the 
soldier  boy's  retreat  lay  one  who  was  moaning  piteously 
for  water.  Tom  had  filled  his  canteen  at  a  brook  on  the 
way,  and  he  crawled  up  to  the  sufferer  to  lave  his  dying 
thirst.  On  reaching  the  w^ounded  man,  he  found  that  he 
was  a  rebel,  and  the  fate  of  the  Zouave  who  had  done  a 
similar  kindness  only  a  short  time  before  presented  itself 
to  his  niind. 


142  ^^^   SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

"  Water  !  Water  !  For  the  love  of  God,  give  nn  a 
drop  of  water,"  moaned  the  dying  soldier. 

Tom  thought  of  the  Zouave  again,  and  had  almost 
steeled  his  heart  against  the  piteous  cry.  He  turned 
away. 

"  Water  !  Water  I  If  you  are  a  Christian  give  me 
feome  water,"  groaned  the  sufferer. 

Our  soldier  boy  could  no  longer  resist  the  appeal.  He 
felt  that  he  could  not  be  loved  on  earth  or  forgiven  in 
heaven  if  he  denied  the  petition  of  the  dying  rebel ;  but 
before  he  granted  it,  he  assured  himself  that  the  sufferer 
had  no  dangerous  weapon  in  his  possession.  The  man 
was  deadly  pale  ;  one  of  his  arms  hung  useless  by  his 
side  ;  and  he  was  covered  with  blood.  He  was  a  terri- 
ble-looking object,  and  Tom  felt  sick  and  faint  as  he 
gazed  upon  him. 

Placing  his  canteen  at  the  lips  of  the  poor  wretch,  he 
bade  him  drink.  His  frame  quivered  as  he  clutched  the 
canteen  with  his  remaining  hand.  The  death  damp  was 
on  his  forehead  ;  but  his  eye  lighted  up  with  neAv  lustre 
as  he  drank  the  grateful  beverage. 

"  God  bless  you  !  God  bless  you  !  "  exclaimed  he  as 
he  removed  the  canteen  from  his  lips.  "  You  are  a  Yan- 
kee," he  added,  as  he  fixed  his  glazing  eyes  upon  Tom's 
uniform.     ' *  Are  you  wounded  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  am  worn  out.  I  have  eaten  nothing  sine© 
daylight,  and  not  much  then.     I  am  used  up," 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    IHE    ARMY.  l^^ 

**  Put  your  liaud  in  my  liavcr.sack.  There  is  some- 
thing there,"  gasped  the  dying  man. 

Tom  bent  over  him  to  comply  with  the  invitation  ;  but, 
with  a  thrill  of  horror,  he  started  back,  as  he  listened  to 
the  death-rattle  in  the  throat  of  the  rebel,  and  saw  his 
ty(t^  fixed  and  lustreless  in-  death.  It  was  an  awful 
scene  to  the  inexperienced  youth.  Though  he  had  seen 
hundreds  fall  in  the  battle  of  that  day,  death  had  not 
seemed  so  ghastly  and  horrible  to  him  as  now,  when  he 
stood  face  to  face  with  the  grim  monster.  For  a  few 
moments  he  forgot  his  own  toil-worn  limbs,  his  craving 
hunger,  and  his  aching  head. 

He  gazed  upon  the  silent  form  before  him,  which  had 
ceased  to  suffer,  and  he  felt  thankful  that  he  had  been 
able  to  mitigate  even  a  single  pang  of  the  dying  rebel. 
But  not  long  could  he  gaze,  awe-struck,  at  the  ghastly 
spectacle  before  him,  for  he  had  a  life  to  save.  The 
words  of  the  sufferer  —  his  last  words  —  offering  him 
the  contents  of  his  haversack  recurred  to  him ;  but 
Tom's  sensibilities  recoiled  at  the  thought  of  eating 
bread  taken  from  the  body  of  a  dead  man,  and  he 
turned  away. 

"  Why  shouldn't  I  take  it  ?  "  said  he  to  himself.  "  It 
may  save  my  life.  With  rest  and  food,  I  may  escape. 
Pooh  !     I'll  not  be  a  fool  I  " 

Bending  over  the  dead  man,  he  resolutely  cut  the  hav- 
ersack from  his  body,  and  then  returned  to  tho  log  whoso 


144  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

friendly  shelter  had  screened  him  from  the  eyes  of  the  rebel 
horsemen.  Seating  himself  upon  the  ground,  he  com- 
menced exploring  the  haversack.  It  contained  two  "  ash- 
cakes,"  a  slice  of  bacon,  and  a  small  bottle.  _  Tom^s  eyea 
glowed  with  delight  as  he  gazed  upon  this  rich  feast,  and, 
without  waiting  to  say  grace  or  consider  the  circum- 
stances under  which  he  obtained  the  materials  for  his 
feast,  he  began  to  eat.  Ash-cake  was  a  new  institution 
to  him.  It  was  an  Indian  cake  baked  in  the  ashes, 
probably  at  the  camp-fires  of  the  rebels  at  Manassas.  It 
tasted  very  much  like  his  mother's  johnny-cake,  only  he 
missed  the  fresh  butter  with  which  he  had  been  wont  to 
cover  the  article  at  home. 

The  soldier  boy  ate  the  bacon,  and  ate  both  of  the 
cakes,  though  each  of  the  latter  was  about  the  size  of  a 
saucer.  It  was  a  large  meal,  even  for  a  growing  boy, 
but  every  mouthful  seemed  to  put  a  new  sinew  into  his 
frame.  While  he  was  eating,  he  drew  the  cork  from  the 
bottle.  It  contained  whiskey.  Tom  had  heard  that 
there  was  virtue  in  whiskey  ;  that  it  was  invigorating  to 
a  tired  man,  and  he  was  tempted,  under  these  extremely 
trying  circumstances,  to  experiment  upon  the  beverage. 
He  Avould  certainly  have  been  excusable  if  he  had  done 
so  ;  but  our  hero  had  a  kind  of  horror  of  the  article, 
which  would  not  let  him  even  taste  it.  He  was  afraid 
that  he  should  acquire  a  habit  which  would  go  with  him 
through  life,  and  make  him  what  Hapgocd  and  others 


TOAf   SOMERS    IN    THE   ARMY.  ^45 

whom  he  knew  were  —  a  tormeut  to  themselves,  and  a 
nuisance  to  their  fellow-beings.  Putting  the  cork  in  the 
bottle,  he  threw  it  upon  the  ground. 

With  his  renewed  strength  came  renewed  hope  ;  but 
he  did  not  deem  it  prudent  to  wander  about  the  woods  at 
present :  therefore  he  threw  himself  on  the  ground  under 
the  protecting  log  to  obtain  the  repose  he  so  much  needed. 

He  thought  of  home,  and  wondered  whether  he  should 
ever  see  the  cottage  of  his  parents  again  ;  and  while  he 
was  thinking,  overcome  by  the  excitement  and  fatigue  of 
the  day,  he  dropped  asleep.  It  was  strange  that  he  could 
do  so,  consciously  environed  by  so  many  perils  ;  but  be 
had  in  a  measure  become  callous  to  danger,  and  he  slept 
long  and  deep. 

When  he  awoke,  it  was  dark  and  silent  around  him. 
The  roar  of  battle  had  ceased,  and  the  calm  of  death 
seemed  to  have  settled  upon  the  scene  of  strife.  Tom's 
bones  still  ached  ;  but  he  was  wonderfully  refreshed  by 
the  nap  he  had  taken.  He  had  no  idea  of  the  time,  and 
could  not  tell  whether  he  had  slept  one  hour  or  six.  He 
was  strong  enough  to  walk  now,  and  the  first  considera- 
tion was  to  escape  from  the  vicinity  of  the  rebel  camps  ; 
but  he  liad  no  conception  of  Avhere  he  was,  or  what 
direction  would  lead  him  to  the  Federal  lines. 

A  kind  Providence  had  watched  over  him  thus  far  ; 
had  spared  his  life  in.  the  fury  of  battle  ;  had  fed  him  in 
the  wilderness,  like  Elijah  of  old  ;  and  restored  his  wasted 
13 


3  46 


THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 


Strength.  He  could  only  trust  to  Providence  for  guid- 
ance,  and,  using  his  best  judgment  in  choosing  the  direc- 
tion, he  entered  upon  tlic  difficult  ta.sk  of  finding  his  way 
out  of  the  woods.  He  had  walked  an  hour  or  more, 
when,  suddenly,  three  men  sprung  up  in  the  path  before 
him. 

"  Halt !    Who  comes  there?"  demanded  one  of  them. 

"  Friend  !  "  replied  Tom  ;  though  he  had  a  great  many 
doubts  in  regard  to  the  truth  of  his  assertion. 

"  Advance,  friend,  and  give  the  countersign  I  " 

But  the  soldier  boy  had  no  countersign  to  give.  He 
had  fallen  upon  a  rebel  picket  post,  and  was  made  a 
prisoner. 


TOM   SOMEBS    jy    THE    ARMY. 


U7 


CHAPTER    XV. 


TOM    A   PRISONER. 


/^^^OM  could  not  exactly  understand  how  he  haps 
m  I  pened  to  be  made  a  prisoner.  He  had  cer- 
Vjy  taiuly  moved  Avith  extreme  caution,  and  he 
wondered  that  he  had  not  received  some  intimation  of 
the  presence  of  the  enemy  before  it  was  too  late  to 
retreat.  But,  as  we  have  before  hinted,  Tom  was  a 
philosopher ;  and  he  did  not  despair  even  under  the 
present  reverse  of  circumstances,  though  he  was  greatly 
disconcerted. 

''Who  are  yon?"  demanded  one  of  the  rebel  sol- 
diers, when  they  had  duly  possessed  his  body,  which, 
however,  was  not  a  very  chivalrous  adventure,  for  the 
prisoner  was  unarmed,  his  gun  having  been  thrown 
away  by  the  friendly  Zouave,  after  he  had  so  terribly 
aveuired  his  murdered  companion. 

"  I'm  a  soldier,"  replied  Tom,  greatly  perplexed  by 
the  trials  of  his  difficult  situation. 

As  yet  he  did  not  know  whether  he  had  fallen  into 
*    the  hands  of  friend   or  foe,  for   the   night  was   cloudy 


148  ^^^    SOLDIER   BOY,    OR 

and  dark,  and  he  could  not  see  what  uniform  the 
pickets  wore. 

*' THiat  do  you  belong  to?"  demanded  the  spokes- 
man of  the  picket  trio. 

"  I  belong  to  the  army,"  answered  Tom,  with  ad- 
mirable simplicity. 

Our  soldier  boy,  as  the  reader  already  knows,  had 
been  well  **  brought  up."  lie  had  been  taught  to  tell 
the  truth  at  all  times  ;  and  he  did  so  on  the  present 
occasion,  very  much  to  the  confusion,  no  doubt,  of  the 
rebel  soldiers,  who  had  not  l)een  brought  up  under 
the  droppings  of  the  sanctuary  in  a  New  England 
village . 

"B'long  to  the  army  —  do  you?"  repeated  Secesh^ 
who  must  have  tliought  Tom   a  very  candid  person. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  belong  to  the  army,"  added  the  prisoner. 

"  I  s'pose  you  won't  mind  telling  us  what  army 
you  belong  to,  'cause  it  mought  make  a  difference  in 
our  calculations,"    added  the  spokesman. 

Tom  did  not  know  but  that  it  might  make  some 
difference  in  his  calculations,  and  for  this  reason  he 
was  exceedingly  unwilling  to  commit  himself  before 
he  ascertained  upon  which  side  his  questioners  be- 
longed. 

''Can  you  tell  me  where  I  am?"  asked  Tom,  re- 
solved to  use  a  little  strategy  in  obtaining  the  desired 
information. 


TOM  S0MER9   IN    THE   ARMY.  l^^ 

*'  May  be  I  can,"   replied  the  picket. 

"Will  you  do  so?" 

"  Sartin,  stranger  —  you  are  in  the  woods,"  added 
Secesh  ;  whereat  his  companions  indulged  in  a  whole- 
some chuckle,  which  assured  Tom  that  they  were  hu- 
man, and  his  hopes  rose  accordingly. 

*' Thank  you,"  replied  Tom,  with  infinite  good  nature. 

"  You  say  you  belong  to  the  army,  and  I  say  you 
are  in  the  woods,"  said  the  soldier,  repeating  the 
double  postulate,  so  that  the  essence  of  the  joke  should 
by  no  possibility  fail  to  penetrate  the  cerebellum  of 
his  auditor. 

Tom  was  perfectly  willing  to  acknowledge  that  he 
was  in  the  woods,  both  actually  and  metaphorically, 
and  he  was  very  much  disturbed  to  know  how  he  should 
get  out  of  the  woods  —  a  problem  which  has  puzzled 
wiser  heads  than  his,  even  in  less  perplexing  emer- 
gencies. He  was  fearful  that,  if  he  declared  himself 
to  be  a  Union  soldier,  he  should  share  the  fate  of 
others  whom  he  had  seen  coolly  bayoneted  on  that 
eventful  day. 

"  Now,  stranger,  s'pose  you  tell  me  what  army  you 
b'long  to  ;  then  I  can  tell  you  where  you  are,"  con- 
tinued the  soldier. 

"What  do  you  belong  to?"  asked  Tom,  though  he 
did  not  put  the  question  very  confidently. 

"  I  belong  to  the  army ;  "  and  the  two  other  pick- 
13* 


150  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

ets  honored  the  reply  with  another  chuckle.  "  You 
can't  fool  old  Akbammy." 

There  was  no  further  need  of  fooling  '"  Old  Ala- 
bammy,"  for  the  worthy  old  gentleman,  symbolically 
represented  by  the  rebel  soldier,  had  kindly  done  it 
himself;  and  Tom  then  realized  that  he  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  enemy.  It  is  true,  the  balance  of  the 
picket  trio  laughed  heartily  at  the  unfortunate  slip  of 
the  tongue  made  by  their  companion  ;  but  Tom  was  in 
no  condition  to  relish  the  joke,  or  he  might  perhaps 
have  insinuated  himself  into  the  good  graces  of  the 
jolly  Secesh  by  repeating  Pat's  mysterious  problem  — 
"  Tell  me  how  many  cheeses  there  are  in  the  bag, 
and  I'll  give  ye  the  whole  five  ;  "  for,  though  this  is 
an  old  joke  in  the  civilized  parts  of  the  world,  it  is 
not  at  all  probable  that  it  had  been  perpetrated  in  the 
benighted  regions  of  Secessia. 

The  announcement  of  the  fact  that  he  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  foe,  as  we  have  before  intimated,  left 
Tom  in  no  condition  to  give  or  take  a  joke.  His 
heart  was  suddenly  deprived  of  some  portion  of  its 
ordinary  gravity,  and  rose  up  to  the  vicinity  of  his 
throat.  He  drew  sundry  deep  and  long  breaths,  in- 
dicative of  his  alarm ;  for  though  Tom  was  a  brave 
boy,  —  as  these  pages  have  already  demonstrated,  —  he 
had  a  terrible  idea  of  the  tender  mercies  of  the  rebels. 
His  first  impulse  was  to  break  away  from  his  captors, 


TOM   SOMERS   IX    THE   ARMY.  15^ 

and  ruu  the  risk  of  beiug  overtaken  by  a  trio  of 
musket  balls ;  for  death  from  the  quick  action  of  a 
bullet  seemed  preferable  to  the  fate  which  his  fears 
conjured  up  if  he  should  be  taken  by  the  bloodthirsty 
rebels.  But  the  chances  were  too  decidedly  against 
liim,  and  he  reluctantly  brought  his  mind  to  the  con- 
dition of  philosophical  submission. 

"'Well,  stranger,  which  army  do  you  b'long  to?" 
said  the  spokesman  of  the  picket  trio,  when  he  had 
fully  recovered  his  self-possession. 

""  I  belong  to  the  United  vStates  army,"  replied  Tom, 
desperately. 

'•  That  means  the  Yankee  army,  I  s'pose." 

'"  Yes,  sir  ;  you  call  it  by  that  name." 

^'  Then  you  are  my  prisoner." 

"  I  surrender  because  I  can't  help  myself." 

"  Hev  you  nary  toothpick  or  bone-cracker  in  your 
pockets  ?  " 

''Any  what?"  replied  Tom,  whose  dictionary  seemed 
to  be  at  fault. 

"Nary  pistol,  knife,  or  any  thing  of  that  sort?" 

"  Nothing  but  my  jackknife." 

"  Any  plunder?" 

"  We  piled  up  our  knapsacks  and  haversacks  before 
we  went  into  the  fight.  Here  is  my  canteen  half 
full  of  water ;  I  gave  the  other  half  to  one  of  your 
soldiers,  when  he  was  dying  of  his  wounds." 


X52  THE    SCLDILII    BOY,   OR 

"Did  ye?" 

''  Now  vvill  you  be  kind  euough  to  tell  me  where 
I  am?" 

"  You  are  inside  the  lines  of  our  army,  about  three 
miles  below  Centreville,"  replied  one  of  the  pickets. 

"  AVliat  time  is  it?" 

"  Nigh  upon  nine  o'clock,  I  should  say.  One  of 
you  fellers  must  take  this  prisoner  to  head-quarters," 
he  continued,  speaking  to  his  companions. 

Tom  was  very  agreeably  surprised  to  find  that  his 
captors  did  not  propose  to  hang,  shoot,  or  bayonet 
him  ;  and  the  Southern  Confederacy  rose  a  few  degrees 
in  his  estimation.  Certainly  the  men  who  had  taken 
him  were  not  fiends,  and  he  began  to  hope  that  his 
situation  as  a  prisoner  would  not  be  so  terrible  as  his 
fancy  had  pfctured  it. 

One  of  the  men  was  deputed  to  conduct  him  to  the 
officer  of  the  guard  ;  and  he  walked  along  by  the  side 
of  the  soldier  through  the  woods,  in  the  direction  from 
which  he  had  just  come. 

"Can  you  tell  me  how  the  battle  went  at  last?" 
asked  Tom,  as  they  pursued  their  way  through  th» 
forest. 

"  AVe  whipped  you  all  to  pieces.  Your  army  hasn't 
done  running  yet.  We  shall  take  Washington  to-mor- 
row, and  Jeff  Davis  will  be  in  the  White  House  be- 
fore the  week  is  out." 


TOAf   SOMEJiS    IX    THE   ARMY.  I53 

"  Have  you  taken  mauy  prisoners  ? "  asked  Tom, 
who  could  not  dispute  the  position  of  the  rebel 
soldier. 

"About  fifty  thousand,  I  b'lieve,"  replied  Secesh, 
with  refreshing  confidence. 

Tom  indulged  in  a  low  whistle,  but  his  companiou 
could  not  tell  whether  it  was  an  expression  of  regret 
or  incredulity.  If  they  had  stood  on  an  equality,  Tom 
would  probably  have  suggested  that  the  figures  should 
be  interpreted  "over  the  left"  —  an  idiosyncrasy  in 
language  which  he  had  imported  from  PInchbrook, 
but  which  may  not  be  wholly  unintelligible  to  our 
young  readers. 

From  his  conductor  he  obtained  some  particulars 
of  the  battle  and  its  result,  which  were  afterward? 
more  fully  set  forth  in  General  Beauregard's  officia/ 
report,  and  wliicli  would  have  read  better  on  the  page.* 
of  Sinbad  the  Sailor  than  in  the  folios  of  a  militarj 
despatch.  But  the  Secesh  soldier's  "facts  and  figures" 
were  comforting  to  Tom,  who  still  had  a  stronger  in- 
terest  in  the  condition  of  the  good  cause,  after  the 
heavy  blow  it  had  received,  than  he  had  in  his  owp 
iiidividual  Avclfarc.  Like  too  heavy  a  dose  of  poison. 
the  magnitude  of  the  stories  refuted  and  defeated 
them.  The  soldier  boy  listened  in  respectful  silence, 
but  he  was  utterly  incredulous.  It  was  even  pos- 
•ible    that   the    Union    army    had    won    a    victory,    af 


/54  '^^^   SOLDIER    BOY,    OB 

ter  all,  though  he  was  not  very  sanguine  on  this 
point. 

He  was  ultimately  conducted  to  the  head-quarters 
of  the  regiment  to  which  his  captors  belonged,  and 
then  turned  into  a  lot  with  about  twenty  others,  who 
were  strongly  guarded.  Tom  joined  his  companions 
in  misery,  most  of  whom,  worn  out  by  the  fatigues 
of  the  day,  were  sleeping  soundly  upon  the  ground. 
Only  two  or  three  of  them  were  awake ;  but  these 
were  strangers  to  him,  and  he  was  unable  to  obtain 
any  information  from  them  concerning  any  of  his 
friends  in  the  regiment. 

It  began  to  rain  shortly  after  Tom  joined  his  fel- 
low-prisoners ;  but  there  was  no  shelter  for  them. 
They  had  neither  blankets  nor  great-coats,  yet  this 
did  not  seem  to  disturb  them.  Our  soldier  boy  threw 
himself  upon  the  ground,  but  the  nap  he  had  taken 
under  tlie  side  of  the  log  set  his  eyes  wide  open  for 
a  time.  lie  could  only  think  of  home,  his  mother  and 
sisters,  and  John,  by  this  time  snugly  coiled  away  in 
the  bed  where  he  had  been  wont  to  dream  of  the 
glories  of  war.  He  had  cast  his  fears  to  the  wmds 
when  he  found  that  his  captors  did  not  intend  to  butcher 
him,  and  he  could  not  help  thinking  that  his  situa- 
tion might  have   been  worse. 

Those  with  whom  he  had  spoken  told  him  they  had 
eaten  nothing  since  morning ;  and  in  this  respect  he  was 


TOM   SOMERS   IN    THE    ARMY  ^55 

far  better  off  tliau  his  companions  were.  The  only 
thing  that  troubled  him  was  the  thought  of  the  an- 
guish which  his  mother  must  suffer,  when  she  heard 
of  the  battle.  When  the  regiment  should  be  gathered 
together  again,  he  would  be  reported  as  "  missing," 
and  this  would  be  a  terrible  word  to  her,  for  it  meant 
killed,  wounded,  or  a  prisoner.  If  he  could  only  assure 
her  that  he  still  lived  and  was  uninjured,  he  would 
have  been  happy  —  happy  in  spite  of  the  drenching 
rain  —  happy  in  spite  of  the  prospective  dungeon,  and 
the  hardships  to  which  he  might  be  subjected.  He 
felt  that  he  Imd  faithfully  performed  his  duty.  When 
he  began  to  be  drowsy,  he  settled  himself  in  the  most 
comfortable  place  he  could  find  on  the  ground,  and 
thanked  God  that  he  had  been  spared  his  life  through 
the  perils  of  that  awful  day,  and  more  fervently  that  he 
had  been  enabled  to  do  his  duty  like  a  good  soldier ; 
and  then,  with  the  Giver  of  all  Good,  the  Fountain 
of  all  Mercy,  in  his  heart,  he   fell  asleep. 

He  slept  several  hours,  and  waked  up  to  find  him- 
self as  thoroughly  soaked  as  though  he  had  just  come 
out  of  the  river.  There  was  no  help  for  it,  and  it 
was  no  use  to  grumble.  After  walking  to  and  fro  for 
half  an  hour,  he  lay  down  again,  and,  between  sleep- 
ing and  waking,  finished  the  night  ;  uncomfortably,  it 
is  true,  and  yet  without  any  positive  suffering.  There 
were  hundreds,  if  not    thousands,  who   were    endurin"' 


|56 


THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 


the  agony  of  fearful  wounds  through  that  long  night; 
wlio  were  lying  alone  and  uncarcd  for  wliere  they  had 
fallen  in  the  deadly  strife  ;  who  were  dying  every  hour, 
away  from  their  homes  and  friends,  and  with  no  kind 
hand  to  minister  to  tlicir  necessities,  with  no  sweet 
voice  of  a  loved  one  to  smooth  their  passage  down  to 
the  dark,  cold  grave. 

Tom  thought  of  these,  for  he  had  seen  them  in  his 
patli,  and  he  felt  that  he  had  no  cause  to  complain  — 
that  he  ought  to  be  cheerful  and  happy.  At  the  dawn 
of  the  day  he  and  his  fellow-prisoners  Avere  marched  to 
Sudley  Church,  where  they  were  to  be  confined  until  they 
could  be  sent  to  Richmond.  Here  Tom  found  a  cap- 
tain belonging  to  his  regiment  ;  but  neither  could  give 
any  information  to   the  other  in  regard  to  their  friends. 

"  I  shall  not  stay  here  long,"  said  the  captain,  in  a 
whisper,  when  they  had  become  better  acquainted.  "  I 
intend  to  leave  to-night." 

''Can't  I  go  with  you?"  asked  Tom. 

"  You  can  go,  but  we  had  better  not  go  together.'* 

Tom  thought  for  a  while,  and  determined  upon  an 
attempt  to  escape.  During  the  day,  he  carefully  exam- 
amined  the  premises,  and  decided  upon  his  mode  of 
opBrations. 


TOM  ;iOArKiis  /.v  the  ai:my. 


id! 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

A   PERPLEXING    QUESTION. 

/^^  OM  80MERS,  who  had  had  some  experience,  in 
I  1 1  a  small  way,  in  the  kind  of  business  now  before 
\^Xy  him,  was  filled  with  hope  when  he  had  adopted 
his  plan.  He  was  a  resolute  and  energetic  young  man, 
and  to  resolve  upon  any  thing  was  almost  equivalent  to 
doing  it.  There  were  a  gi-eat  many  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  success,  it  is  true  ;  but,  nothing  daunted  by  these, 
he  determined  to  persevere.  The  church  in  which  the 
prisoners  were  confined  was  carefully  guarded  on  the 
exterior,  and  the  sentinels  carried  loaded  muskets  in 
their  hands  — so  that  the  affair  before  him  was  more 
hazardous  and  trying  than  that  of  escaping  from  the 
attic  chamber  of  Squire  Pemberton's  house  in  Pinch- 
brook. 

If  he  succeeded  in  making  his  way  out  of  the  church 
and  eluding  the  guard  which  surrounded  it,  even  then 
his  trials  would  only  have  commenced  ;  for  there  were 
many  miles  of  hostile  country  between  him  and  Wash- 
ington, whither  he  supposed  the  Federal  army  had  been 
14 


258  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOT,  OR 

driven.  The  captain  who  intended  to  escape  at  the  same 
time  gave  him  some  information  which  would  be  of  ser- 
vice to  him  in  finding  his  way  to  the  Potomac.  He 
charged  him  particularly  to  follow  the  railroad,  which 
would  conduct  him  to  Alexandria,  in  the  vicinity  of 
which  he  Avould  pro])ably  find  the  regiment. 

At  dark  the  prisoners  disposed  of  themselves  as  well 
as  they  could  for  the  night.  Tom  saw  the  captain  go 
through  all  the  forms  of  preparing  for  a  comfortable 
lodging,  and  he  did  the  same  himself.  For  hours  he  lay 
ruminating  upon  his  purpose.  When  it  was  midnight, 
he  thought  it  was  time  for  him  to  commence  the  enter- 
prise. He  worked  himself  along  on  the  floor  till  he 
reached  the  principal  entrance.  The  door  was  open,  as 
it  had  been  all  day,  to  enable  the  guards  to  obtain  an 
occasional  view  of  the  prisoners. 

The  sentinels  were  evidently  in  no  condition  to  dis- 
chai'ge  their  duties  with  fidelity,  for  they  had  been 
marching  and  fighting  for  two  or  three  days,  and  were 
nearly  exhausted.  Leaning  against  the  door,  Tom  dis- 
covered a  musket,  which  the  careless  guard  had  left 
there.  On  the  floor  in  the  entry  lay  two  rebel  soldiers. 
Tliey  had  stretched  themselves  across  the  threshold  of 
the  door,  so  that  no  one  could  pass  in  or  out  of  the 
church  without  stepping  over  them. 

Tom  carefully  rose  from  his  recumbent  posture,  and 
took  possession  of  the  musket.     Then,  with  the  utmost 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE   ARMY. 


159 


prudence,  he  stepped  over  the  bodies  of  the  sleeping  sol- 
diers ;  but  witli  all  his  circumspection,  he  could  not  pre- 
vent one  of  his  shoes  from  squeaking  a  little,  and  it 
required  only  a  particle  of  noise  to  rouse  the  guard. 

''  Who  goes  there?"  demanded  one  of  them,  springing 
to  his  feet. 

''  Is  this  the  way  you  do  your  duty?"  replied  Tom,  as 
sternly  as  though  he  had  been  a  brigadier  general. 

'•Who  are  you?"  said  the  soldier,  apparently  im- 
pressed by  the  words  and  the  tones  of  him  who  reproved 
his  neglect. 

''  Who  am  I,  you  sleepy  scum  !  I'll  let  you  know 
who  I  am  in  about  ten  minutes,"  added  Tom,  as  he 
passed  out  at  the  front  door  of  the  church. 

"Give  me  back  my  gim  —  won't  you?"  pleaded  the 
confused  sentinel. 

"  I'll  give  it  back  to  you  at  the  court-martial  which 
will  sit  on  your  case  to-morrow." 

"Who  goes  there?"  challenged  one  of  the  sentinels 
on  the  outside. 

"  Who  goes  th'ere  !  "  added  Tom,  in  a  sneering  tone. 
"Have  you  waked  up?  Where  were  you  five  minutes 
ago,  when  I  passed  this  post  ?  There  won't  be  a  prisoner 
left  here  by  morning.  The  long  roll  wouldn't  wake  up 
such  a  stupid  set  of  fellows." 

"  Stop,  sir  !  "  said  the  astonished  sentinel.  "  You 
ran't  pass  this  line." 


X60  ^-^^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

"  Can't  I,  you  stupid  fool?  I  have  passed  it  while  you 
were  asleep." 

'^  I  haven't  been  asleep." 

"Where  have  you  been,  then?"  demanded  Tom  with 
terrible  energy. 

"•  Been  here,  sir." 

"  I'll  court-martial  the  whole  of  you  !  " 

"  Stop,  sir,  or  I'll  fire  at  you  I  "  added  the  soldier,  as 
Tom  moved  on. 

'•'  Fire  at  me  !  Fire,  if  you  dare,  and  I'll  rid  the 
,  irmy  of  one  unfaithful  man  on  the  spot !  "  said  the  sol- 
dier boy,  as  he  raised  the  musket  to  his  shoulder. 

"  Don't  fire,  you  fool !  "  interposed  one  of  the  men 
irhom  Tom  had  roused  from  his  slumbers  in  the  entry. 
*•  Don't  you  see  he  is  an  officer  ?  " 

"  I'll  teach  you  how  to  perform  your  duty ! "  added 
/om,  as  he  walked  away. 

The  soldier,  governed  by  the  advice  of  his  companion, 
offered  no  further  objection  to  the  departure  of  Tom ; 
and  he  moved  off  as  coolly  as  though  he  had  just  been 
regularly  relieved  from  guard  duty.  He  had  walked 
but  a  short  distance  before  he  discovered  the  camp  of  a 
regiment  or  brigade,  which,  of  course,  it  was  necessary 
for  him  to  avoid.  Leaving  the  road,  he  jumped  over  the 
fence  into  a  field  —  his  first  object  being  to  place  a  re- 
iif»ectful  distance  between  himself  and  the  enemy. 

The  scene  through  which  he  had  just  passed,  though  he 


TOM   SOMERS    IN   THE   ARMY.  161 

had  preserved  the  appearance  of  coohiess  and  self-pos- 
session, had  been  exceedingly  trying  to  his  nerves  ;  and 
when  the  moment  of  pressing  danger  had  passed,  he 
found  his  heart  up  in  his  throat,  and  his  strength  ahnost 
wasted  by  the  excitement.  He  felt  as  one  feels  when 
he  has  just  escaped  a  peril  which  menaced  him  with 
instant  death.  It  was  singular  that  the  soldier  had 
not  fired,  but  the  fact  that  he  did  not  convinced  Tom 
that  there  is  an  amazing  power  in  impudence. 

For  half  an  hour  he  pursued  his  way  with  haste  and 
diligence,  but  without  knowing  where  he  was  going  — 
whether  he  was  moving  toward  Richmond  or  Washing- 
ton. As  the  musket  which  he  had  taken  from  the 
church  was  not  only  an  encumbrance,  but  might  be- 
tray him,  he  threw  it  away,  though,  thinking  some 
means  of  defence  might  be  useful,  he  retained  the 
bayonet,  and  thrust  it  in  his  belt.  Thus  relieved  of 
his  burden,  he  walked  till  he  came  to  a  road.  As  there 
was  no  appearance  of  an  enemy  in  any  direction,  he 
followed  this  road  for  some  time,  and  finally  it  brought 
him  to  the  object  of  his  search  —  the  railroad. 

But  then  came  up  the  most  perplexing  question  he 
had  yet  been  called  upon  to  decide.  To  that  railroad, 
as  to  all  others,  there  were,  unfortunately,  two  ends  — 
one  of  which  lay  within  the  Federal  lines,  and  the 
other  within  the  rebel  lines.  If  Tom  had  been  an  as- 
tronomer, which  he  was  not,  the  night  was  too  cloudy 


U 


162  THE   SOLDIER   BOY,    OR 

to  enable  him  to  consult  the  stars  ;  besides,  some  rail- 
roads are  so  abominabl}-  crooked  that  the  heavenly  orbs 
would  hardly  have  been  safe  pilots.  He  did  not  know 
which  was  north,  nor  which  was  south,  and  to  go  the 
wrong  way  would  be  to  jump  out  of  the  frying  pan  into 
the  fire. 

Tom  sat  down  by  the  side  of  the  road,  and  tried  to 
settle  the  difficult  question  ;  but  the  more  he  thought, 
the  more  perplexed  he  became  —  which  shows  the  folly 
of  attempting  to  reason  when  there  are  no  premises  to 
reason  from.  He  was,  no  doubt,  an  excellent  logician ; 
but  bricks  cannot  be  made  without  straw. 

''Which  way  shall  I  go?"  said  Tom  to  himself,  as 
he  stood  up  and  peered  first  one  way  and  then  the 
other  through  the  gloom  of  the  night. 

But  he  could  not  see  Washington  in  one  direction, 
nor  Richmond  in  the  other,  and  he  had  not  a  single 
landmark  to  guide  him  in  coming  to  a  decision. 

"I'll  toss  up!"  exclaimed  he,  desperately,  as  he 
took  off  his  cap  and  threw  it  up  into  the  air.  "  Right 
side  up,  this  way  —  wrong  side,  that  way;  and  may 
the  fates  or  the  angels  turn  it  in  the  proper  way." 

He  stooped  down  to  pick  up  the  cap,  and  ascertain 
which  way  it  had  come  down.  It  came  down  right 
side  up,  and  Tom  immediately  started  off  in  the  direc- 
tion indicated.  Although  he  had  no  confidence  in  the 
arbitrament  of  the  cap.  he  felt  relieved  to  find  the 
question  disposed  of  even  in  this  doubtful  manner. 


TOM  SOMERS   IN   THE  ARMY.  163 

He  kept  both  ej'es  wide  open  as  he  advanced,  for  if 
he  had  taken  the  wrong  way  a  few  miles  of  travel  would 
bring  him  to  the  main  camp  of  the  rebels  in  the  vicinity 
of  Manassas  Junction.  He  pursued  his  lonely  journey 
for  some  time  without  impediment,  and  without  dis- 
covering any  camp  either  large  or  small.  He  gathered 
new  confidence  as  he  proceeded.  After  he  had  walked 
two  or  three  hours  upon  the  railroad,  he  thought  it  was 
about  time  for  Fairfax  station  to  heave  in  sight,  if  he 
had  chosen  the  right  way  —  or  for  the  rebel  camps  to 
appear  if  he  had  chosen  the  wrong  way.  With  the  first 
place  he  was  familiar,  as  his  regiment  had  encamped  a 
short  distance  from  it. 

He  was  sorely  perplexed  by  the  non-appearance  of 
either  of  these  expected  points.  The  country  began 
to  look  wilder  and  less  familiar  as  he  proceeded.  The 
region  before  him  looked  nigged  and  mountainous,  and 
the  dark  outlines  of  several  lofty  peaks  touched  the  sk}' 
in  front  of  him.  But  with  the  feeling  that  every  step 
lie  advanced  placed  a  wider  space  between  him  and  his 
captors  at  Sudley  church,  he  continued  on  his  way  till 
the  gray  streaks  of  daj'llght  appeared  behind  him. 

This  phenomenon  promised  to  afford  him  a  gleam  of 
intelligence  upon  which  to  found  a  correct  solution  of  his 
course.  Tom  knew  that,  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
events,  the  sun  ought  to  rise  in  the  east  and  set  in  the 
west.    If  he  was  goinor  to  the  north,  the  sun  would  rise 


164  THE   SOLDTEIi    SOY,    Olt 

on  his  riglit  hand  —  if  to  the  south,  on  his  left  hand. 
The  streaks  of  Hght  grew  more  and  more  distinct,  and 
the  clouds  having  rolled  away,  he  satisfied  himself  where 
the  sun  would  appear.  Contrary  to  both  wings  of  his 
theory,  the  place  was  neither  on  his  right  nor  his  left, 
for  it  was  exactly  behind  him.  But  his  position  might 
be  upon  a  bend  of  the  I'ailroad  whose  direction  did  not 
correspond  with  the  general  course  of  the  road.  For 
half  an  hour  longer,  therefore,  he  pursued  his  way, 
carefully  noting  every  curve,  until  he  was  fully  con- 
vinced that  his  course  was  nearer  west  than  north.  The 
sun  rose  precisely  as  had  been  laid  down  in  the  pro- 
gramme, and  precisely  where  he  expected  it  would  rise. 

It  was  clear  enough  that  he  was  not  moving  to  the 
south ;  and,  satisfied  that  he  was  in  no  danger  of  stum- 
bluig  upon  Richmond,  his  courage  increased,  and  he 
plodded  on  till  lie  discovered  a  small  village  —  or  what 
would  be  called  such  in  Virginia  — though  it  contained 
only  a  few  houses.  As  he  still  wore  the  uniform  of  the 
United  States  armj',  he  did  not  deem  it  prudent  to  pass 
through  this  village  ;  besides,  he  was  terribly  perplexed 
to  know  what  station  it  could  be,  and  what  had  become 
of  Fairfax.  Though  he  must  have  passed  through  the 
country  before,  it  did  not  look  natural  to  him. 

Leaving  the  railroad,  he  took  to  the  -fields,  intending 
to  pass  round  the  village,  or  conceal  himself  in  the 
woods  till  he  could  go  through  it  m  safety.    After  walk- 


TOM  SOMERS   IN   THE  ARMY.  1G5 

ing  diligentl}^  for  so  mauy  hours,  Tom  was  reminded 
that  he  had  a  stomach.  His  rations  on  the  preceding 
day  had  not  been  very  bountiful,  and  he  was  positively 
hungry.  The  organ  which  had  reminded  him  of  its 
existence  was  beginning  to  be  imperative  in  its  demands, 
and  a  new  problem  was  presented  for  solution  —  one 
which  had  not  before  received  the  attention  which  it 
deserved. 

In  the  fields  and  forest  he  found  a  few  berries  ;  but 
all  he  could  find  made  but  a  slight  impression  upon  the 
neglected  organ.  If  Tom  was  a  philosopher,  in  his 
humble  way,  he  was  reasonable  enough  to  admit  that  a 
man  could  not  live  without  eating.  At  this  point,  there- 
fore, the  question  of  rations  became  a  serious  and  sol- 
emn problem  ;  and  the  longer  it  remained  unsolved  the 
more  difficult  and  harassing  it  became. 

After  he  had  rested  all  the  forenoon  in  a  secluded  spot, 
without  interruption  from  man  or  beast,  he  decided  to 
settle  this  question  of  rations  once  for  all.  If  impu- 
dence had  enabled  him  to  pass  a  line  of  rebel  sentries, 
it  ought  to  furnish  him  with  a  dinner.  Leaving  his 
hiding  place,  he  walked  till  he  discovered  a  small  house, 
at  which  he  determined  to  apply  for  something  to  eat. 

Jheo.  Haight,  Jr,,  ^970  Boulevard,  /.sia.ia,  L  j, 


166  THE    SOLDIER   BOY,    OR 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


DINNER    AND    DANGER. 


/^^^HE  house  at  which  Tom  applied  for  food 
m\  \  ^^'^^^^i^tly  (lid  not  belong  to  one  of  the  ''first 
^^J^  families,"  or,  if  it  did,  the  owner's  fortunes 
had  become  sadly  dilapidated.  It  was  built  of  rough 
boards,  with  a  huge  stone  chimney,  which  was  erected  on 
the  outside  of  the  structure.  The  humblest  fisherman  in 
Piuchbrook  Harbor  would  liave  thought  himself  poorly 
accommodated  in  such  a  rough  and  rickety  mansion. 

If  Tom's  case  had  not  been  growing  desperate,  he 
would  not  have  run  the  risk  of  showing  himself  to  any 
person  on  the  ' '  sacred  soil ' '  who  was  ' '  to  the  manor 
born  ;  "  but  his  stomach  was  becoming  more  and  more 
imperative  in  its  demands,  and  he  knocked  at  the  front 
door  with  many  misgivings,  especially  as  his  exchequer 
contained  less  than  a  dollar  of  clear  cash. 

The  inmates  were  either  very  deaf  or  very  much  in- 
disposed to  see  visitors  ;  and  Tom,  after  he  had  knocked 
three  times,  began  to  think  he  had  not  run  any  great 
risk  in  coming  to  this  house.     As  nobody  replied  to 


TOJf   SOME  US    IN    THE   ARMY.  1(57 

his  summons,  lie  took  the  liberty  to  open  the  door  and 
enter.  Tlie  establisliment  was  even  more  primitive  in 
its  interior  than  its  exterior,  and  the  soklier  boy  could 
not  help  contrasting  it  with  the  neat  houses  of  the  poor 
in  his  native  town. 

The  front  door  opened  into  a  large  room  without  the 
formality  of  an  entry  or  hall.  In  one  corner  of  the 
apartment  stood  a  bed.  At  one  side  was  a  large  fire- 
place, in  which  half  a  dozen  sticks  of  green  wood  were 
hissing  and  sizzling  in  a  vain  attempt  to  make  the  con- 
tents of  an  iron  pot,  which  hung  over  them,  reach  the 
boiling  point.  No  person  was  to  be-  seen  or  heard  on 
the  premises,  though  the  fire  and  the  pot  were  sug- 
gestive of  humanity  at  no  great  distance  from  the  spot. 

A  door  on  the  back  side  of  the  room  was  open,  and 
Tom  looked  out  in  search  of  the  occupants  of  the  house. 
In  the  garden  he  discovered  the  whole  family,  consisting 
of  a  man  and  his  wife,  a  girl  of  twelve,  and  a  boy  of 
ten.  The  man  was  digging  in  the  garden,  and  the  rest 
of  the  troupe  seemed  to  be  superintending  the  operation. 
The  head  of  the  family  was  altogether  the  most  interest- 
ing person  to  Tom,  for  he  must  either  shake  hands  or 
fight  with  him.  He  did  not  look  like  a  giant  in  intel- 
lect, and  he  certainly  was  not  a  giant  in  stature.  With 
the  bayonet  still  in  his  belt,  Tom  was  not  afraid  of  him. 

"How  are  j'ou,  people?"  said  Tom,  as  he  walked 
towards  the  family,  who  with  one  accord  suspended 


168  THE   SOLDIER   BOY,    Oli 

all  operations,  aud  gave  their  whole  attention  to  the 
stranger. 

"How  are  ye,  yourself?"  replied  the  man,  rather 
gruffly. 

"Do  3'ou  keep  a  hotel?"  demanded  Tom,  who 
concealed  the  anxiety  of  his  heart  under  a  broad 
grin. 

"  I  reckon  I  don't.     What  do  you  want  here?  " 

"  I  want  something  to  eat,"  replied  Tom,  proceed- 
ing to  business  with  commendable  straightforwardness. 

"  We  hain't  got  nothin'  here,"  said  the  man  sourly. 
"  That  ain't  what  ye  come  fur,  nuther." 

"Must  have  something  to  eat.  I'm  not  very  par- 
ticular, but  I  must  have  something." 

"  You  can't  hev  it  'bout  yere,  no  how.  Tlwit  ain't 
what  3'e  come  fur,  nuther." 

"  If  you  know  what  I  came  for  better  than  I  do, 
suppose  3'ou  tell  me  what  it  is,"  added  Tom,  who  was 
a  little  mystified  b}'  the  manner  of  the  man. 

"  You  air  one  of  them  soger  fellers,  and  you  want 
me  to  'list ;  but  I  tell  3'er,  j^e  can't  do  nothin'  of  the 
sort.     I'll  be  dog  derned  if  I'll  go." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  go,"  protested  Tom.  "I'm 
half  starved  and  all  I  want  is  something  to  eat." 

"  Yer  don't  really  mean  so." 

"Yes,  I  do." 

"  Where  d'  yer  come  from?  " 


TOM  SOAtERS    IN    THE   ARMY.  109 

"From  (lowu  below  here.  Have  you  seen  any  sol- 
iiers  pass  through  this  place  ?  " 

^-  I  reckon  I  hev  ;  but  they  hain't  seen  me  ;  and  I 
reckon  they  won't  see  me  very  soon  ; "  and  the  man 
chuckled  at  his  o^vn  cleverness  in  keeping  clear  of 
recruiting  ofRcers. 

"  I  don't  want  you,  and  if  you  will  give  me  some- 
thing to  eat,  you  will  get  rid  of  me  very  quick." 

"  Betsey,  you  kin  feed  the  feller,  if  yer  like,  and 
I'll  go  over  and  see  whar  the  hogs  is." 

Tlie  man  dropped  his  shovel,  and  began  to  move  off" 
towards  the  woods,  probably  to  see  whether  Tom  would 
attempt  to  detain  him.  At  the  same  time  "Betsey" 
led  the  way  into  the  house,  and  the  visitor  paid  no  fur- 
ther attention  to  the  master. 

"  AVe  hain't  got  mueli  to  eat  in  the  house,"  said  the 
woman,  as  they  entered  the  room.  "  There's  some 
biled  pork  and  pertaters  in  the  pot,  and  we've  got  some 
bread,  sech  as  'tis." 

"  It  will  do  me  very  well.  I'm  hungry,  and  can  eat 
any   thing,"   replied  Tom. 

The  woman  placed  a  tin  plate  on  the  table,  and 
dished  up  the  contents  of  the  kettle  on  the  fire.  She 
added  some  cold  hoe  cake  to  the  dinner,  and  Tom 
thoudit  it  was  a  feast  fit  for  a  king.  He  took  a  seat 
at  the  table,  and  made  himself  entirely  at  home. 
The  food  was  coarse,  but  it  was  good,  and  the  hungry 
15 


170  '^^^     SOLDlhn    BOY,    OR 

soldier  boy  did  ample  justice  to  the  viands.  The  boy 
aud  girl  who  had  followed  him  into  the  house,  stood, 
one  on  each  side  of  him,  watching  him  in  speechless 
astonishment. 

"Where  did  yer  come  from?"  asked  the  woman, 
when  Tom  had  about  half  finished  his  dinner. 

"  From  down  below,"  replied  Tom,  rather  indefi- 
nitely. 

"Don't  b'long  in  these  yere  parts,  I  reckon?" 

"  No,  marm." 

"  Where  are  ye  gwine  ?  " 

"  Going  to  join  my  regiment." 

"  Where   is  yer  rigiment  ?  " 

"  Tliat's  more  than  I  know,  marm." 

"How  long  yer  been  travelling?"  persisted  the 
woman,  who  was  perhaps  afraid  that  the  guest  would 
eat  up  the  whole  of  tlie  family's  dinner,  if  she  did 
not  make  some  kind  of  a  feint  to  attract  his  attention. 

"  Only  a  feAV  days,  marm." 

"  Kin  yer  till  me  what  all  thet  noise  was  about  day 
Tore  yesterday  ?  " 

"  Yes,  marm ;    it  was  a  big  battle." 

"Gracious  me!    Yer  don't  say  so  !    Wliar  was  it?" 

"  Down  below  Centreville." 

"Which  beat?" 

"  The  Confederates  drove  the  Yankees  off  the  field," 
.mswered    Tom,    suspending   business    long    enough    to 


TOM   SOMEIiS   JN    THE   ARMY.  \'J\ 

glance  at  the  woman,  and  see  how  the  intelligence 
was  received.  ^ 

"  Yer   don't !    Then  they  won't  want  my  old  man." 

Tom  was  unable  to  determine  whether  his  hostess 
was  Union  or  "Secesli"  from  her  words  or  her  looks. 
lie  could  not  inform  her  wlielhcr  they  would  want 
her  old  man  or  not.  "When  he  had  eaten  all  he  could, 
he  proposed  like  an  honest  youth  to  pay  for  what  he 
had  eaten  ;  but  Betsey  had  the  true  idea  of  southern 
hospitality,  and  refused  to  receive  money  for  the  food 
eaten  beneath  her  roof.  She  had  a  loaf  of  coarse 
bread,  however,  in  which  she  permitted  Tom  to  invest 
the  sum  of  six  cents. 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  marm ;  and  I 
shall  be  glad  to  do  as  much  for  you,  any  time,"  said 
Tom,  as  he  went  towards  the  front  door. 

As  he  was  about  to  open  it,  his  ears  were  startled 
by  an  imperative  knock  on  the  outside.  He  stepped 
back  to  one  of  the  two  windows  on  tlie  front  of  the 
liouse,  where  he  discovered  an  officer  and  two  "  gray- 
back  "  soldiers.  The  ghost  of  his  grandmother  would 
not  have  been  half  so  appalling  a  sight,  and  he  re- 
treated to  the  back  door  with  a  very  undignified 
haste. 

"  Gracious  me  !  "  exclaimed  the  lady  of  the  house. 
''  Who  kin  thet  be  ?  " 

"  An  officer  and  two  soldiers,"    replied  Tom,  hastily. 


172  ^-^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

*'  Then  they  are  arter  my  old  mau  I  "  said  sha, 
dropping  into  the  only  chair  the  room  contained. 

"•  Don't  say  I'm  here,  marm,  and  I'll  help  youf 
husband,  if  they  catch  him.  Tell  them  he  has  gon« 
off  to  be  absent  a  week." 

"  Ile'd  be  absent  more'n  thet  it'  he  knowed  them 
fellers  was  arter  him." 

The  woman  moved  towards  the  front  door,  and 
Tom  through  the  back  door  ;  but  as  he  was  about  to 
pass  into  the  garden,  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  one  of 
the  graybacks  in  the  rear  of  the  house.  For  a  mo- 
ment his  case  seemed  to  be  hopeless  ;  but  he  retreated 
into  the  room  again,  just  as  the  woman  opened  the 
front  door  to  admit  the  officer.  He  could  not  escape 
from  the  house,  and  his  only  resource  was  to  secure 
a  hiding  place  within  its  walls.  There  were  only  two 
which  seemed  to  be  available  ;  one  of  these  was  the 
bed,  and  the  other  the  chimney.  If  any  search  was 
made,  of  course  the  soldiers  would  explore  the  bed 
first  ;  and  the  chimney  seemed  the  most  practicable. 

There  was  no  time  for  consideration,  for  the  woman 
had  already  opened  the  door,  and  was  answering  the 
questions  of  the  Confederate  otiicer ;  so  Tom  sprang 
into  the  fireplace,  and,  by  the  aid  of  the  projecting 
stones,  climbed  up  to  a  secure  position.  The  chimney 
was  large  enough  to  accommodate  half  a  dozen  boys 
of  Tom's    size.      The  fire    had    gone    out,  and   thougb 


TOM   SOMEIiS    IN    THE   ARMY.  173 

the  Stones  were  rather  warm  iu  the  fireplace,  he  was 
not  uncomfortable. 

The  fears  of  the  lady  of  the  house  proved  to  be 
well  grounded  this  time,  for  the  party  had  actually  come 
in  search  of  her  ''  old  man  ;  "  and  wliat  was  more,  the 
officer  announced  his  intention  not  to  leave  without 
him. 

''  lie's  gone  away  fur  a  week,  and  he  won't  be 
hum  before  the  fust  of  August,  no  how,"  said  the 
woman  resolutely,  and  adopting  Tom's  suggestion  to 
the  letter. 

""  All  nonsense,  woman !  He  is  about  here,  some- 
where,  and  we  will  find  him." 

''  You  may,  if  you  kin." 

The  officer  then  went  out  at  the  back  door,  as  Tom 
judged  by  his  footsteps,  and  the  woman  asked  one  of 
the  children  what  had  become  of  the  other  soldier 
man.  The  boy  said  he  was  up  chimney.  She  then 
told  them  not  to  tell  the  officer  where  he    was. 

"What  shell  I  do?"  said  she,  placing  herself  before 
the  fireplace. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed.  He  will  keep  out  of  their  way," 
replied  Tom. 

"  But  the  officer  man  said  he  was  gwine  to  stay 
'bout  yere  till  he  gits  hum,"  moaned  the  poor  wo- 
man. 

"  He  will  not  do  any  such  thing.  Your  husband 
15* 


^74  THE    SOLDIER    BOT,    OR 

has  the  woods  before  him,  and  he  won't  let  them  catch 
him." 

''  Deary  me  !    I'm  'feared  they  will." 

'' AVhere  are  they  now?" 

"  They're   gone   out   to  look   for  him." 

Tlie  officer  and  his  men  returned  in  a  few  moments, 
havini:;  satisfied  themselves  that  the  proprietor  of  the 
place   was  not  on   the  premises. 

''  Now  Ave'll    search    the    house,"    said  the  officer : 
and  Tom  heard  them  walking  about  in  the  room. 

Of  course  the  militia  man  could  not  be  found,  and 
the  officer  used  some  very  unbecoming  language  to 
express  his  disapprobation  of  the  skulker,  as  he  called 
him. 

"  Woman,  if  you  don't  tell  me  where  your  husband 
is,  I'll  have  you  arrested,"   said  he,   angrily. 

"  I  don't  know  myself.  He's  gone  off  over  the 
mountains  to  git  some  things.  Thet's  all  I  know  about 
it,  and  if  yer  want  to  arrest  me,  yer  kin." 

But  the  officer  concluded  that  she  would  be  a  poor 
substitute  for  an  able  bodied  man,  and  he  compromised 
the  matter  by  leaving  one  of  the  privates,  instructing 
him  not  to  let  the  woman  or  the  children  leave  the 
house,  and  to  remain  till  the   skulker  returned. 

This  was  not  very  pleasant  information  for  Tom, 
who  perceived  that  he  Avas  likely  to  be  shut  up  in  the 
chimney  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  and  perhaps  be  smoked 


TOM    SOMERS    IX    THE   ARMY.  17- 

lit/ 

or  roasted  out  at  supper  time.  Climbiug  up  to  the 
top  of  his  pri-sou  house,  he  looked  over,-  and  saw  the 
oHk-er  and  one  private  disappear  in  the  woods  which 
lay  between  the  house  and  the  railroad.  Looking  over 
the  other  way,  he  saw  the  coveted  recruit  approaching 
the  house  from  beyond  the  garden. 


jyg  THE    SOLD  J  Eli    BOY,    OE 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 


THE    KEBEL    SOLDIER. 


C: 


'OM  SOMERS  was  not  very  well  satisfied  with 
lis  situation,  for  the  soldier  who  had  been 
ift  in  possession  of  the  house  was  armed 
with  a  musket,  and  the  prospect  of  escaping  before 
night  was  not  very  flattering.  The  patriarch  of  the 
family,  who  had  such  a  horror  of  recruiting  officers,  was 
approaching,  and  in  a  few  moments  there  would  be  an 
exciting  scene  in  the  vicinity. 

Independent  of  his  promise  made  to  the  woman  to 
help  her  husband,  if  she  would  not  betray  him,  Tom 
deemed  it  his  duty  to  prevent  the  so-called  Confederate 
States  of  America  from  obtaining  even  a  single  additional 
recruit  for  the  armies  of  rebellion  and  treason.  Without 
having  any  personal  feeling  in  the  matter,  therefore, 
he  was  disposed  to  do  all  he  could  to  assist  his  host  in 
''  avoiding  the  draft."  What  would  have  been  treason 
in  New  England  was  loyalty  in  Virginia. 

The  unfortunate  subject  of  the  Virginia  militia  law 
was  unconsciously  approaching  the  trap  which  had  been 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE   ARMY.  J  77 

set  for  him.  He  had,  no  doubt,  come  to  tiie  conclusion, 
by  this  time,  that  the  hungry  soldier  boy  was  not  a 
recruiting  officer,  or  even  the  corporal  of  a  guard  sent 
to  apprehend  him,  and  he  was  returning  Avith  confi- 
dence to  partake  of  his  noonday  meal.  Tom,  from  his 
perch  at  the  top  of  the  chimney,  watched  him  asHie 
ambled  along  over  the  rough  path  with  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  ground.  There  was  something  rather  exciting 
in  the  situation  of  affairs,  and  he  soon  found  himself 
deeply  interested  in  the  issue. 

Tlie  unhappy  citizen  owing  service  to  the  Confederate 
States  climbed  over  the  zigzag  fence  that  enclosed  his 
garden,  and  continued  to  approach  the  rude  dwelling 
which  the  law  had  defined  to  be  his  castle.  Tom  did  not 
dare  to  speak  in  tones  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  the 
innocent  victim  of  the  officer's  conspiracy,  for  they 
n'ould  have  betrayed  his  presence  to  the  enemy.  Sit- 
ting upon  the  top  stones  of  the  chimney,  he  gesticulated 
violently,  hoping  to  attract  his  attention  ;  but  the  man 
did  not  look  up,  and  consequently  could  not  see  the 
signals. 

lie  had  approached  within  ten  rods  of  the  back  door 
of  the  house,  when  Tom,  fearing  his  footsteps  might 
attract  the  attention  of  the  soldier,  ventured  to  give  a 
low  whistle.  As  this  was  not  heeded,  lie  repeated  the 
signal  when  the  man  was  within  two  or  three  rods 
of  the   house ;    but    even    this    was    not    noticed,    and 


178  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

throwing  his  head  forward,  so  tliat  tlie  sound  of  his 
voice  should  not  descend  the  chimney,  he  spoke. 

"  Halloo  !  "    said  he. 

The  man  suddenly  stopped,  and  looked  up.  Tom 
made  signals  with  his  hands  for  him  to  leave ;  but 
this  mute  language  appeared  not  to  be  intelligible  to 
him. 

"  Consarn  yer  picter,  what  are  yer  doin'  up  thar?" 
said  the  proprietor  of  the  castle,  in  tones  which  seemed 
to  Tom  as  loud  as  the  roar  of  the  cannon  at  Bull 
Run. 

"  Hush  !  Hush  !  "  replied  Tom,  gesticulating  with 
all  his  might,  and  using  all  his  ingenuity  to  invent 
signs  that  would  convey  to  the  militiaman  the  idea 
that  he  was  in  imminent  danger. 

"  You  be  scotched  !  "  snarled  the  man.  "  What  are 
yer  doin'?    What  ails  yer?" 

"  They  are  after  you ! "  added  Tom,  in  a  hoarse 
whisper. 

The  fellow  most  provokingly  refused  to  hear  him, 
and  Tom  thought  his  skull  was  amazingly  thick,  and 
his  perceptions  amazingly  blunt. 

"  Now  you  come  down  from  thar."  said  he,  as  he 
picked  up  a  couple  of  stones.  "  You  act  like  a  monkey, 
and  I  s'pose  yer  be  one.  Now  make  tracks  down 
that  chimley." 

But  instead  of  doing   this,  Tom   retreated   into   his 


TOAf  SOMERS   IX    THE   ARMY.  ^yjj 

shell,  as  a  snail  does  wheu  the  moment  of  peril  arrives. 
The  soldier  in  the  house  was  not  deaf;  and  if  he  had 
been,  lie  could  hardly  have  helped  hearing  the  stentorian 
tones  of  his  victim.  Instead  of  going  out  the  back 
door,  like  a  sensible  man,  he  passed  out  at  the  front 
door,  and  in  a  moment  more  Tom  heard  his  voictf 
just  beneath  liim. 

"  Halt ! "  shouted  the  soldier,  as  he  brought  hi? 
musket  to  his  shoulder.     '•  Your  name  is  Joe  Burnap." 

''  That's  my  name,  but  I  don't  want  nothin'  o'  you," 
replied  the  embarrassed  militiaman,  as  he  dropped  the 
stones  with  which  he  had  intended  to  assault  Tom's 
citadel. 

"  I  want  something  of  you,"  replied  the  soldier. 
^'  You  must  go  with  me.  Advance,  and  give  your- 
self up." 

"What  fur?"  asked  poor  Joe. 

"  We  want  you  for  the  army.  You  are  an  enrolled 
militiaman.     You  must  go  with  me." 

"I'll  be  dog  denied  if  I  do,"  answered  Joe  Bur- 
nap,  desperately. 

"If  you  attempt  to  run  away,  I'll  shoot  you.  You 
shall  go  with  me,  dead  or  alive,  and  hang  me  if  I  care 
much  which." 

Joe  evidently  did  care.  He  did  not  Avant  to  go  with 
the  soldier;  his  southern  blood  had  not  been  fired  by 
the  wrongs  of  his  country  ;  and  he  was  equally  averse 


180 


THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 


to  being  shot  in  cold  blood  by  this  minion  of  the  Cciir 
lederacy.  His  position  was  exceedingly  embarrassing, 
for  he  conld  neither  run,  fight,  nor  compromise.  While 
matters  were  in  this  interesting  and  critical  condition, 
Tom  ventured  to  raise  his  head  over  the  top  of  the 
chimney  to  obtain  a  better  view  of  the  belligerents. 
Joe  stood  where  he  had  last  seen  him,  and  the  sol- 
dier was  standing  within  three  feet  of  the  foot  of  the 
chimney. 

"  "What  ye  going  to  do,  Joe  Burnap?"  demanded  the 
latter,  after  waiting  a  reasonable  time  for  the  other  to 
make  up  his  mind. 

''What  am  I  gwine  to  do  ?  "  repeated  Joe,  vacantly, 
as  he  glanced  to  the  right  and  the  left,  apparently  in  the 
hope  of  obtaining  some  suggestion  that  would  enable 
him  to  decide  the  momentous  question. 

''  You  needn't  look  round,  Joe  ;  you've  got  to  come 
or  be  shot.  Just  take  your  choice  between  the  two, 
and  don't  waste  my  time." 

"  I  s'pose  I  can't  help  myself."  replied  Joe.  "  I'll 
tell  ye  what  I'll  do.  I  want  to  fix  up  things  about  hum 
a  little,  and  I'll  jine  ye  down  to  Hie  Gap  to-morrow." 

"  No  you  don't,  Joe  Burnap ! "  said  the  soldier, 
shaking  his  head. 

"Then  I'll  jine  ye  to-night,"  suggested  the  strategist. 

"  My  orders  are  not  to  return  without  you,  and  I 
shall  obey  them." 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE   ARMY.  \^\ 

Mrs.  Buruap,  who  had  followed  tlie  soldier  out  of 
the  house,  stood  behind  him  wringing  her  hands  in  an 
agony  of  grief.  She  protested  with  all  a  w^oman's 
eloquence  against  the  proceedings  of  the  soldier ;  but 
her  tears  and  her  homely  rhetoric  were  equally  una- 
vailing. While  the  parties  were  confronting  each 
other,  the  soldier  dropped  his  piece,  and  listened  to 
the  arguments  of  Joe  and  his  wife.  "When  he  turned 
for  a  moment  to  listen  to  the  appeals  of  the  woman, 
her  husband  improved  the  opportunity  to  commence  e 
retreat.  He  moved  off  steadily  for  a  few  paces,  when 
the  enemy  discovered  the  retrograde  march,  and  again 
broucrht  the  orun  to  his  shoulder. 

*'  None  of  that,  Joe,"  said  the  soldier,  sternly. 
"  Now  march  back  again,  or  I'll  shoot  you ;  "  and 
Tom  heard  the  click  of  the  hammer  as  he  cocked  the 
piece.  "  I've  fooled  long  enough  with  you,  and  we'll 
vind  this  business  here.  Come  here,  at  once,  or  I'll 
put  a  bullet  through  your  head." 

"  Don't  shoot !  Don't  shoot !  For  mercy's  sake  don't 
shoot."  cried  Mrs.  Burnap. 

"  I'll  give  him  one  minute  to  obey  the  order ;  if  he 
don't  do  it  then,  I'll  fire.     That's  all  I've  got  to  say." 

Tom  saw  by  the  soldier's  manner  that  he  intended  to 

execute  his  threat.      He  saw  him  brace  up  his  nerves, 

and   otherwise   prepare   himself    for    the    bloody   deed. 

But  Tom  did  not  think  that  Joe  had  the  stubbornness  or 

16 


132  '^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OB 

the  courage,  whicliever  it  might  be  called,  to  nm  th« 
risk  of  dodging  the  bullet.  He  foresaw,  too,  that,  if 
Joe  gave  himself  up,  his  hiding  place  would  be  ex- 
posed, and  the  soldier  would  have  two  prisoners  to 
conduct  back  to  his  officer,  instead  of  one.  It  was 
therefore  high  time  for  him  to  do  something  for  his 
own  protection,  if  not  for  that  of  his  host. 

The  necessity  of  defending  himself,  or  of  doing 
something  to  cover  his  retreat  in  an  emergency,  had 
been  anticipated  by  Tom,  and  he  had  made  sucli  prep- 
arations as  the  circumstances  would  admit.  His  first 
suggestion  was  to  dart  his  bayonet  down  at  the  rebel 
soldier,  as  he  had  seen  the  fishermen  of  Pinchbrook 
harpoon  a  horse  mackerel ;  Init  the  chances  of  hitting 
the  mark  were  too  uncertain  to  permit  him  to  risk 
the  loss  of  his  only  weapon,  and  he  rejected  the  plan. 
He  adopted  the  method,  however,  in  a  modified  form, 
deciding  to  use  the  material  of  which  the  chimney 
was  constructed,  instead  of  the  bayonet.  The  stones 
being  laid  in  clay  instead  of  mortar,  were  easily  de- 
tached from  the  structure,  and  he  had  one  in  his 
hands  ready  for  operations. 

"  Come  here,  Joe  Burnap,  or  you  are  a  dead  man," 
repeated  the  soldier,  who  evidently  had  some  scruples 
about  depriving  the  infant  Confederacy  of  an  able- 
bodied  recruit. 

Tom    Somers,    being    unembarrassed    by    any    such 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE    ARMY.  ^g^ 

scruples,  lifted  himself  up  from  his  hiding  place,  and 
liurled  the  stoue  upou  the  soldier,  fully  expecting  to  hit 
him  on  the  head,  and  dash  out  his  brains.  The  best 
laid  calculations  often  miscarry,  and  Tom's  did  in  part, 
for  the  missile,  instead  of  striking  tlie  soldier  upon  the 
head,  hit  hiiu  on  the  right  arm.  The  musket  was  dis- 
charged, either  by  the  blow  or  by  the  act  of  its  owner, 
and  fell  out  of  his  hands  upou  the  ground. 

Now,  a  stone  as  big  as  a  man's  head,  does  not  fiill 
from  the  height  of  fifteen  feet  upon  any  vulnerable  part 
of  tlie  human  frame  without  iuilieting  some  injury ;  and 
in  strict  conformity  Avith  this  doctrine  of  probabilities,  the 
stone  which  Tom  hurled  down  upon  the  rebel,  and  which 
struck  him  upon  the  right  arm,  entirely  disabled  tllat 
useful  member.  The  hero  of  this  achievement  was  sat- 
isfied with  the  result,  though  it  had  not  realized  his 
anticipations.  Concluding  that  the  time  had  arrived 
for  an  effective  charge,  he  leaped  out  of  the  chimney 
upon  the  roof  of  the  house,  descended  to  the  eaves, 
and  then  jumped  down  upon  the  ground. 

The  soldier,  in  panic  and  pain,  had  not  yet  recov- 
ered from  the  surprise  occasioned  by  this  sudden  and 
unexpected  onslaught.  Tom  rushed  up  to  him,  and 
secured  the  musket  before  he  had  time  to  regjiin  his 
self-possession. 

''"Who  are  you?"  demanded  the  soldier,  holding 
up  the  injured  arm  with  his  left  hand. 


184  '^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

"  Your  most  obedient  servant,"  replied  Tom,  face- 
tiously, as  he  placed  himself  in  the  attitude  of  ''  charge 
bayonets."  "  Have  you  any  dangerous  weapons  about 
your  person  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have,"  replied  the  soldier,  resolutely,  as  he 
retreated  a  few  ^teps,  and  attempted  to  thrust  his  left 
hand  into  the  breast  pocket  of  his  coat. 

''  Hands  down  !  "  exclaimed  Tom,  pricking  his  arm 
with  the  bayonet  attached  to  the  musket.  "  Here,  Joe 
Buruap  !  " 

"  What  d'  yer  want  ?  "  replied  the  proprietor  of  the 
house,  who  was  as  completely  "demoralized"  by  the 
scene  as  the  rebel  soldier  himself. 

"  Put  your  hand  into  tliis  man's  pocket,  and  take 
out  his  pistol.  If  he  resists,  I'll  punch  him  Avith  this," 
added  Tom,  demonstrating  the  movement  by  a  few 
vigorous  thrusts  with  the  bayonet. 

With  some  hesitation  Joe  took  a  revolver  from  the 
pocket  of  the  soldier,  and  handed  it  to  Tom. 

"  Examine  all  his  pockets.  Take  out  every  thing  he 
has  in  them,"  added  Tom,  cocking  the  revolver,  and 
pointing  it  at  the  head  of  the  prisoner. 

Joe  took  from  the  pockets  of  the  rebel  a  quantity  of 
pistol  cartridges,  a  knife,  some  letters,  and  a  wallet. 

"Who's  this  fur?"  asked  Joe,  as  he  proceeded  to 
open  the  wallet,  and  take  therefrom  a  roll  of  Confed' 
erate  "  shin-plasters." 


TOM  SOMERS    IN   THE  ARMY.  183 

''  Give  it  buck  to  him." 
*'But  this  is  mouey." 

*'  Mouey  !  "  sueered  Tom.  "  A  northern  beggar 
wouUlu't  thank  you  for  all  he  could  carry  of  it.  Give 
it  back  to  him,  and  every  thing  else  except  the 
cartridges." 

Joe  reluctantly  restored  the  wallet,  the  letters,  and 
the  knife,  to  the  pockets  from  which  he  had  taken 
them.  Tom  then  directed  him  to  secure  the  cartridge 
box  of  the  soldier. 

''  You  are  my  prisoner,"  said  Tom  ;  "but  I  believe 
in  treating  prisoners  well.  You  may  go  into  the  house, 
and  if  your  arm  is  much  hurt,  Mrs.  Burnap  may  do 
what  she  can  to  help  you." 

The  prisoner  sullenly  attended  the  woman  into  the 
house,  and  Tom  followed  as  far  as  the  front  door. 

"  Now,  what  am  I  gwine  to  do?  "  said  Joe.  "  You've 
got  me  into  a  right  smart  scrape." 

."  I  thought  I  had  got  you   out  of  one,"  replied  Tom. 
*'  Do  you  intend  to  remain  here  ?  " 
"  Sartin  not,  now.     I  must  clear." 
"  So  must  I ;  and  we  have  no  time  to   spare.     Gel 
what  you  can  to  eat,  and  come  along." 

In    ten    minutes    more,    Tom  and   Joe   Burnap  ^er© 
travelling  towards  the  mountains. 
16* 


Igg  THE    SOLDIER   BOY,  OH 


CHAPTER    XIX 


THROUGH    THE    GAP. 


^T^  OE  BURNAP  was  perfectly  familiar  with  the 
country,  and  Tom  readily  accepted  him  as  a 
guide ;  aud,  as  they  had  a  common  object  in 
v^ew,  neither  had  good  cause  for  mistrusting  the  other. 
They  walked,  without  stopping  to  rest,  till  the  sun  set 
behind  the  mountains  towards  which  they  were  trav- 
elling. 

"  I  reckon  we  needn't  hurry  now,"  said  Joe,  as  he 
seated  himself  on  a  rock. 

"  I  don't  think  there  is  any  danger  of  their  catching 
us,"  replied  Tom,  as  he  seated  himself  beside  his  fellow- 
traveller.     "  Can  you  tell  me  where  we  are? " 

"  I  reckon  I  can.  There  ain't  a  foot  of  land  in  these 
yere  parts  that  I  hain't  had  my  foot  on.  I've  toted  plun- 
der of  all  sorts  through  these  woods  more  'u  ten  thousand 
times." 

"  Well,  where  are  we?"  asked  Tom,  whose  doubts  in 
regard  to  the  locality  had  not  yet  been  solved. 

In  the  pressure  of  more  exciting  matters,  he  had  not 


r03/  SOMEBS    IX    THE  ARMY.  Jg; 

attempted  to  explain  why  he  did  not  come  to  Fairfax  sta. 
tion  while  following  the  railroad. 

'•  If  we  koep  on  a  little  while  longer,  I  reckon  we 
shall  come  to  Thoroughfare  Gap,"  answered  Joe. 

"'But  where  do  you  live?  What  town  is  your  house 
in  ?  "  asked  Tom,  who  had  never  heard  of  Thoroughfare 
Gap  before. 

''  Ilaymarket  is  the  nearest  town  to  ray  house." 

"  What  railroad  is  that  over  there?"  asked  Tom,  who 
was  no  nearer  the  solution  of  the  question  than  he  had 
been  in  the  beginning. 

*"  That's  the  Manassas  Gap  Railroad,  I  reckon,"  replied 
Joe,  who  seemed  to  be  astonished  at  the  ignorance  of  his 
companion. 

"Just  so,"  added  Tom,  who  now,  for  the  first  time, 
comprehended  where  he  was. 

When  he  left  Sudley  church,  he  walked  at  random  till 
he  came  to  the  railroad  ;  but  he  had  struck  the  Manassas 
Gap  Railroad  instead  of  the  main  line,  and  it  had  led  him 
away  from  the  great  body  of  the  rebels,  though  it  also 
conducted  him  away  from  Washington,  where  he  desired 
to  go.  He  was  perplexed  at  the  discovery,  and  at  once 
began  to  debate  the  question  whether  it  was  advisable 
for  him  to  proceed  any  farther  in  this  direction. 

"•I  suppose  you  are  a  Union  man  —  ain't  you?"  said 
Tom,  after  he  had  considered  his  situation  for  some 
time. 


X88  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

Instead  of  answering  this  question,  Joe  Burnap  raised 
his  eyes  from  the  ground,  and  fixed  his  gaze  intently 
upon  Tom.  He  stared  at  him  for  a  moment  in  doubt 
and  silence,  and  then  resumed  his  former  attitude. 

"  You  don't  want  to  fight  for  the  south,"  added  Tom ; 
"  so  I  suppose  you  don't  believe  in  the  Southern  Con- 
federacy." 

''  I  don't  want  to  fight  for  nuther  of  'em,"  replied 
Joe,  after  a  moment  of  further  consideration.  '•  If 
they'll  only  let  me  alone,  I  don't  keer  which  beats." 

His  position  was  certainly  an  independent  one,  and  he 
appeared  to  be  entirely  impartial.  The  newspapers  on 
either  side  would  not  have  disturbed  him.  Patriotism  — 
love  of  country  —  had  not  found  a  resting  place  in  his 
soul.  Tom  had  not,  from  the  beginning,  entertained  a 
very  high  respect  for  the  man  ;  but  now  he  despised  him, 
and  thought  that  a  rebel  was  a  gentleman  compared  with 
such  a  character.  How  a  man  could  live  in  the  United 
States,  and  not  feel  an  interest  in  the  stirring  events 
which  Mere  transpiring  around  him,  was  beyond  his  com- 
prehension. In  one  word,  he  so  thoroughly  despised 
Joe  Burnap,  that  he  resolved,  at  the  first  convenient 
opportunity,  to  get  rid  of  him,  for  he  did  not  feel  safe  in 
the  company  of  such  a  person. 

"  Now  which  side  do  you  fight  fur?"  asked  Joe,  after 
a  long  period  of  silence. 

''  For  the  Union  side,"  replied  Tom,  promptly. 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE   ARMY.  JgJ 

"  What  are  yer  do  in'  here,  then  ?  '* 

"  I  was  in  the  battle  below,  and  was  taken  prisoner. 
I  got  away,  and  I  want  to  get  to  Washington." 

*'  I  reckon  this  ain't  the  way  to  git  thar,"  added  Joe. 

*'  I  doubt  whether  I  can  get  there  any  other  way." 

Just  then,  Tom  would  have  given  all  the  money  he  had 
in  the  world,  and  all  that  the  government  owed  him,  for 
a  good  map  of  Virginia  —  or  even  for  a  knowledge  of 
geography  which  would  have  enabled  him  to  find  his  way 
by  the  safest  route  to  Washington.  But  he  had  been  a 
diligent  scholar  in  school,  and  had  faithfully  improved 
the  limited  opportunities  which  had  been  afforded  him. 
His  mind  could  recall  the  map  of  Virginia  which  he  had 
studied  in  school,  but  the  picture  was  too  faint  to  be  of 
mucli  practical  benefit  to  him. 

He  had  treasured  up  some  information,  derived  from 
the  newspapers,  in  regard  to  the  Manassas  Gap  Railroad. 
He  knew  that  it  passed  through  the  Blue  Ridge,  at  the 
western  base  of  which  flowed  the  Shenandoah  River : 
this  emptied  into  the  Potomac,  which  would  certainly 
conduct  him  to  Wasliington.  In  following  these  two 
rivers,  he  should  have  to  describe  nearly  a  circle,  which 
was  not  an  encouraging  fact  to  a  boy  on  foot,  with  no 
resources,  and  in  an  enemy's  country. 

If  he  returned  by  the  way  he  came,  the  country  was 
filled  with  rebel  soldiers,  and  he  could  hardly  expect  ta 
pass  through  their  lines  without  being  captured.     Diffi* 


X90  ^^^    SOLDIER    HOT,  OR 

cult  and  dangerous  as  the  route  by  the  Shenandoah  ajv 
peared,  he  decided  to  adopt  it. 

Joe  Burnap  proposed  that  they  should  have  supper, 
and  opened  the  bag  M'hich  he  had  tilled  with  such  eata- 
bles as  he  could  hastily  procure  on  leaving  home.^  They 
ate  a  hearty  meal,  and  then  resumed  their  walk  for 
another  hour. 

''  I  reckon  we'd  better  stop  here,"  said  Joe.  *'  The 
Gap's  only  half  a  mile  from  here,  and  it's  too  arly  in  the 
night  to  go  through  thar  yet.  Thar's  too  many  soldiers 
goin  that  way." 

''What  time  will  you  go  through?"  asked  Tom. 

"  Not  afore  midnight." 

"  Then  I'll  turn  in  and  take  a  nap.  I  didn't  sleep  any 
last  night." 

"  I'm  agreed,"  replied  Joe,  who  seemed  to  be  indiffer- 
ent to  every  thing  while  he  could  keep  out  of  the  rebel 
army. 

Tom  coiled  up  his  body  in  the  softest  place  he  could 
find,  and  went  to  sleep.  Exhausted  by  fatigue  and  the 
want  of  rest,  he  did  not  wake  for  many  hours.  He  came 
to  his  senses  with  a  start,  and  jumped  upon  his  feet. 
For  a  moment,  he  could  not  think  where  he  was  ;  but 
then  came  the  recollection  that  he  was  in  the  country  of 
his  enemies  —  a  wanderer  and  a  fugitive. 

He  looked  about  him  in  search  of  his  travelling  com- 
panion ;  but  the  fact  that  he  could  not  see  him  in  the 


TOM   SO  ME  US   IX    THE   ARMT. 


191 


night  was  no  argument  that  he  was  not  near  him.  lie 
supposed  Joe  had  chosen  a  place  to  sleep  in  the  vicinity, 
and  thinking  he  might  not  wake  in  season  to  pass 
througli  the  Gap  before  daylight,  he  commenced  a  search 
for  him.  He  beat  about  the  place  for  half  an  hour,  call- 
ing his  companion  by  name  ;  but  he  could  not  see  him, 
and  no  sound  responded  to  the  call  but  the  echoes  of  his 
own  voice. 

The  independent  Virginia  farmer  had  anticipated 
Tom's  intention  to  part  company  with  him,  and,  by  this 
time,  perhaps,  had  passed  through  the  Gap.  The  soldier 
boy  was  not  quite  ready  to  dispense  with  the  services  of 
his  guide,  inasmuch  as  he  did  not  even  know  where  the 
Gap  was,  or  in  what  direction  he  must  travel  to  reach  it. 
While  he  was  debating  his  prospects,  an  enterprising 
rooster,  in  the  distance,  sounded  his  morning  call.  This 
assured  him  that  he  must  be  near  some  travelled  road, 
and,  taking  the  direction  from  the  fowl,  he  resumed  his 
journey. 

A  short  walk  brought  him  out  of  the  woods,  and,  in 
the  gray  light  of  the  da^^^l,  he  discovered  a  house.  As 
he  did  not  care  to  make  any  new  acquaintances,  he 
avoided  the  house,  and  continued  his  travels  till  he  arrived 
at  a  road.  As  it  was  too  early  in  the  morning  for  peo- 
ple to  be  stirring,  he  ventured  to  follow  the  highway,  and 
soon  perceived  an  opening  in  the  mountains,  which  h# 
doubted  not  was  the  Gap. 


192  ^^^   SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

At  sunrise  he  arrived  at  another  house,  which  sud- 
denly came  into  view  as  he  rounded  a  bend  in  the 
road.  Near  it  were  several  negroes  engaged  in  various 
occupations.  As  he  passed  the  house,  the  negroes  all 
suspended  operations,  and  stared  at  him  till  he  was  out 
3f  sight.  He  soon  reached  tlie  Gap  ;  but  he  had  ad- 
vanced only  a  short  distance  before  he  discovered  a  bat- 
tery of  light  artillery  stationed  on  a  kind  of  bluff,  and 
whose  guns  commanded  the  approaches  in  every  direction. 

Deeming  it  prudent  to  reconnoitre  before  he  proceeded 
any  farther,  he  also  ascertained  that  the  Gap  was  pick- 
eted by  rebel  infantry.  Of  course  it  was  impossible  to 
pass  through  under  these  circumstances,  and  he  again 
took  to  the  woods.  The  scanty  supply  of  food  which  he 
had  purchased  from  Mrs.  Barnap  was  now  produced,  and 
he  made  an  economical  breakfast.  Finding  a  secluded 
place,  he  stretched  himself  upon  the  ground,  and  went 
to  sleep.  Though  he  slept  till  the  sun  had  passed  the 
meridian,  the  day  was  a  very  long  one. 

When  it  was  fairly  dark,  he  resolved  to  attempt  the 
passage  of  the  Gap,  for  he  was  so  tired  of  inaction  that 
peril  and  hardship  seemed  preferable  to  doing  nothing. 
Returning  to  the  road,  he  pursued  his  way  with  due  dili- 
o^ence  throufrh  the  narrowinpr  defile  of  the  mountains,  till 
he  suddenly  came  upon  a  sentinel,  who  challenged  him. 
Before  he  started  from  his  hiding  place,  Tom  had  care- 
fully loaded  the  revolver  which  he  had  taken  from  the 


TOM   SOMEliS    IN    THE    ARMY.  ^93 

rebel  soldier  ;  and,  as  he  walked  along,  he  carried  the 
weapon  in  his  hand,  ready  for  any  emergency  that  might 
require  its  use. 

The  guard  questioned  him,  and  Tom  replied  that  he 
had  fought  in  the  battle  down  below,  and  had  a  furlough 
to  go  home  and  see  his  father,  who  was  very  sick. 

"  Where's  your  furlough?"  demanded  the  soldier. 

*'  In  my  pocket." 

*'  Let  me  see  it." 

"  Here  it  is,"  replied  Tom,  producing  an  old  letter 
*s'hich  he  happened  to  have  in  his  pocket. 

The  sentinel  took  the  paper,  unfolded  it,  and  turned 
it  over  two  or  three  times.  It  was  too  dark  for  him  to 
read  it  if  he  had  been  able  to  do  so,  for  all  the  rebel  sol- 
diers are  not  gifted  in  this  way. 

"  I  reckon  this  won't  do,"  he  added,  after  patiently 
considering  the  matter.  "  Just  you  tote  this  paper  up  to 
the  corporal  thar,  and  if  he  says  it's  all  right,  you  kin 
go  on." 

'^  But  I  can't  stop  to  do  all  that.  Here's  my  pass,  and 
I  want  to  go  on.  My  father  may  die  before  I  get 
home." 

"  What  regiment  do  you  b'long  to  ?  "  asked  the  guard, 
v'ho  evidently  did  not  wish  to  disoblige  a  fellow-soldier 
1.  recessarily. 

The    Second    Virginia,"    replied    Tom,    at    a   ven- 
ture. 

17 


294  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

"Where  does  your  father  live?"   continued  the  sep 
tinel. 

"  Just  beyond  the  Gap,  if  he's  living  at  all.'* 

"What  town?" 

Tom  was  nonplussed,  for  he  did  not  know  the  name 
of  a  single  place  on  the  route  before  him  ;  and,  of  course, 
he  did  not  dare  to  answer  the  question. 

"  About  five  or  six  miles  from  here,"  he  answered. 

"  Is  it  Salem  or  White  Plains?  "  demanded  the  soldier, 
w^hose  cunning  was  inferior  to  his  honesty. 

"  White  Plains,"  added  Tom,  promptly  accepting  th« 
suggestion. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  your  father?" 

"  I  don't  know  ;  he  was  taken  suddenly." 

"  'Pears  like  your  uniform  ain't  exactly  our  sort," 
added  the  soldier. 

"  Mine  was  all  used  up,  and  I  got  one  on  the  battle^ 
field." 

"  I  wouldn't  do  that.  It's  mean  to  rob  a  dead  man  of 
his  clothes." 

"Couldn't  help  it  —  I  w^as  almost  naked,"  replied 
Tom,  who  perfectly  agreed  with  the  rebel  on  this  point. 

"  You  kin  go  on.  Old  Virginny,"  said  the  soldier, 
whose  kindly  sympathy  for  Tom  and  his  sick  father  was 
highly  commendable. 

The  soldier  boy  thanked  the  sentinel  for  his  permis- 
eion,  of  which  he  immediately  availed  himself.      Tom 


TOM   SOMRRS    IN    THE   ARAfT.  ^95 

did  not  yet  realize  the  force  of  the  maxim  that  "  all  is 
fair  iu  war,"  and  his  conscience  gave  a  momentary 
twinge  as  he  thought  of  the  deception  he  had  practised 
upon  the  honest  and  kind-hearted  rebel.  He  was  very 
thankful  that  he  had  not  been  compelled  to  put  a  bullet 
through  his  head  ;  but  perhaps  he  was  more  thankful 
that  the  man  had  not  been  obliged  to  do  him  a  similar 
favor. 

The  fugitive  walked,  with  an  occasional  rest,  till  day- 
light the  next  morning.  He  went,  through  three  or  four 
small  villages.  After  passing  through  the  Gap,  he  had 
taken  the  railroad,  as  less  likely  to  lead  him  throuirh  the 
more  thickly  settled  parts  of  tlie  country.  Before  liira 
the  mountains  of  the  Blue  Ridge  rose  like  an  impassable 
wall,  and  when  the  day  dawned  he  was  approaching 
Manassas  Gap.  He  had  walked  twenty-five  miles  during 
the  night,  and  prudence,  as  Avell  as  fatigue,  required  him 
to  seek  a  place  of  rest. 


196  '^'^^   SOLDIER   BOY,  OR 


CHAPTER    XX 


DOWN    THE    SHENANDOAH. 


\ji  ^  that  Avild  mountain  region,  Tom  had  no 
^1  difficnhy  in  finding  a  secUided  spot,  where 
I  )  there  was  no  probability  that  he  Avoiild  be  mo- 
lested, lie  had  been  in  a  state  of  constant  excitement 
during  the  night,  for  the  country  was  full  of  soldiers. 
Tlie  mountaineers  of  Virginia  were  rushing  to  the 
standard  of  rebellion.  They  were  a  wild,  rude  set  of 
men,  and  they  made  the  night  hideous  with  their  de- 
bauchery. Tom  succeeded  in  keeping  out  of  the  way 
of  the  straggling  parties  which  were  roaming  here  and 
there  ;  but  he  was  filled  with  dread  and  anxiety  lest  he 
should,  at  the  next  moment,  stumble  upon  a  camp,  or 
a  squad  of  these  marauders. 

The  nook  in  the  mountains  which  he  had  chosen  as 
his  resting  place  was  a  cleft  in  the  rocks,  concealed  by 
the  overhanging  branches  of  trees.  Here  he  made  his 
bed,  as  the  sun  rose,  and,  worn  out  with  fatigue  and 
anxiety,  he  dropped  asleep. 

When  he  awoke,  the  sun  was  near  the  meridian.     H« 


TOM   SOMERS   J.V    THE   AliMY.  197 

rose  and  walked  out  a  short  distance  from  his  lodging 
place,  and  listened  tor  any  sounds  which  might  indicate 
the  presence  of  an  enemy.  All  was  still ;  silence  deep 
and  profound  reigned  through  the  solitudes  of  the  moun- 
tains. Tom  returned  to  his  place  of  concealment,  and 
after  eating  the  remainder  of  the  food  he  had  brought 
with  him,  he  stretched  himself  upon  the  ground,  and 
went  to  sleep  again.  He  had  nothing  else  to  do,  and 
he  needed  all  the  rest  he  could  obtain.  It  was  fortu- 
nate for  him  that  he  had  self-possession  enough  to  sleep  — 
to  banish  his  nervous  doubts  and  fears,  and  thus  secure 
the  repose  which  was  indispensable  to  the  success  of  his 
arduous  enterprise. 

It  was  after  sundo\\Ti  when  he  finished  his  second 
nap.  He  had  slept  nearly  all  day,  —  at  least  ten  hours, 
—  and  he  was  entirely  refreshed  and  restored.  He  was 
rather  stiff  in  some  of  his  limbs  m  hen  he  got  up  ;  but 
he  knew  this  would  wear  off  after  a  little  exercise. 
He  had  no  supper  with  which  to  brace  himself  for  the 
night's  work  ;  so  he  took  a  drink  from  the  mountain 
stream,  and  made  his  way  back  to  the  railroad.  But 
it  was  too  early  then-  to  commence  the  passage  of  the 
Gap,  and  he  sat  for  a  couple  of  hours  by  the  side  of 
the  road,  before  he  ventured  to  resume  his  journey. 

While  he  was  passing  through  the  narrow  gorge  in 
the  mountains,  he  met  several  persons,  on  foot  and  on 
horseback ;  but  as  he  was  armed  with   a  pistoL  he  did 


I9» 


THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 


not  turn  out  for  them  ;  Init  when  a  party  of  soldieri 
approached,  he  sought  a  hiding  place  by  the  side  of  the 
road  until  they  were  out  of  hearing.  When  he  had 
passed  through  the  Gap,  he  came  to  a  road  crossing  the 
track,  and  after  debating  the  question  thoroughly,  he 
decided  to  abandon  the  railroad,  and  pursued  his  course 
by  the  common  highway  towards  tlie  North. 

Continuing  his  journey  diligently  for  a  time  longer, 
he  came  to  another  road,  branching  off  to  the  left  from 
the  one  he  had  chosen,  which  required  further  considera- 
tion. But  his  conclusion  was  satisfactory,  and  he  con- 
tinued on  the  same  road,  which  soon  brought  him  to  a 
more  thickly  settled  country  than  that  through  which 
he  had  been  travelling. 

By  this  time  Tom's  stomach  began  to  be  rebellious 
again,  and  the  question  of  rations  began  to  assume  a 
serious  aspect.  He  was  not  suffering  for  food,  but  it 
was  so  much  more  comfortable  to  travel  upon  a  full 
stomach  than  an  empty  one,  that  he  could  not  pass  a 
dwelling  house  without  thinking  of  the  contents  of  the 
cellar  and  closets.  It  was  perfectly  proper  to  forage 
on  the  enemy ;  but  he  could  not  eat  raw  chickens  and 
geese,  or  the  problem  of  rations  w^ould  have  been  effect- 
ually settled  by  a  demonstration  on  the  hen-coops  of  the 
Shenandoah  valley. 

He  came  to  a  halt  before  a  large  mansion,  which 
kad  the  appearance  of  belonging  to  a  wealthy  person. 


TOM   SOMEIIS    IX    TltE   AliMY.  ^9^ 

Its  lanlei  uuil  kitcheu  cupboards,  he  doubted  uot,  were 
plcDtituUy  supplied  with  the  luxuries  of  the  seasou  ;  and 
Tora  thought  he  miglit  as  well  obtain  his  provisions 
now,  as  wait  till  he  was  driven  to  desperation  by 
hunger.  He  entered  the  front  gate  of  the  great  house, 
and  stepped  upon  the  veranda  in  front  of  it.  The 
windows  reached  down  to  the  floor.  He  tried  one  of 
them,  and  found  that  it  was  not  fastened.  He  care- 
fully raised  the  sash  and  entered. 

Tom  was  determined  to  put  himself  upon  his  impu- 
dence on  the  present  occasion  ;  but  he  satisfied  himself 
that  his  revolver  was  in  ooudition  for  instant  use  before 
he  proceeded  any  farther.  Passing  from  the  front 
room  to  an  apartment  in  the  rear,  he  found  a  lamp 
and  nuitclies,  and  concluded  that  he  would  have  some 
light  on  the  su])ject,  which  was  duly  obtained.  Leav- 
ing this  room,  he  entered  another,  which  proved  to  be 
the  kitchen.  A  patient  search  revealed  to  him  the 
lurking  place  of  a  cold  roast  chicken,  some  fried  bacon, 
bread,  and  crackers. 

Placing  these  things  on  the  table,  he  seated  himself 
to  partake  of  the  feast  which  the  forethought  of  the 
occupants  had  provided  for  him.  Tom  began  to  be 
entirely  at  home,  for  having  thrown  himself  on  his 
impudence  now,  he  did  not  permit  any  doubts  or  fears 
to  disturb  him  ;  but  the  handle  of  his  pistol  protruded 
from  between  the  buttons  of  his  coat.     He  ate  till  h« 


200  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOr,    OR 

had  satisfied  himself,  when  he  happened  to  think  that 
the  coffee  pot  he  had  seen  in  the  closet  might  contain 
some  cold  coffee  ;  and  he  brought  it  out.  He  was  not 
disappointed,  and  even  found  sugar  and  milk.  He 
poured  out  a  bowl  of  the  beverage,  and,  having  prepared 
it  to  his  taste,  was  about  to  conclude  the  feast  in  this 
genteel  style,  Avhen  he  heard  footsteps  in  the  adjoining 
entry. 

Tom  determined  not  to  be  cheated  out  of  his  coffee, 
and  instead  of  putting  himself  in  a  flurry,  he  took  the 
bowl  in  one  hand  and  the  pistol  in  the  other.  The 
door  opened,  and  a  negro  timidly  entered  the  room. 

"  Well,  sar !  "  said  the  servant,  as  he  edged  along 
the  side  of  the  room.     "  Hem  !    AVell,  sar  !  " 

Tom  took  no  notice  of  him,  but  continued  to  drink 
his  coffee  as  coolly  as  though  he  had  been  in  his 
mother's  cottage  at  Pinchbrook. 

"  Hem  !  Well,  sar  !  "  repeated  the  negro,  who  evi- 
dently wished  to  have  the  interloper  take  some  notice 
of  him. 

But  the  soldier  boy  refused  to  descend  from  his 
dignity  or  his  impudence.  He  finished  the  bowl  of 
coffee  as  deliberately  as  though  the  darkey  had  been 
somewhere   else. 

"Well,   sar!    ^Mio's  you,  sar?" 

"Eh,  Blackee  ?" 

-* Who's  you,  sar?" 


TOM   SOMERS    IK    THE   ARMY.  201 

*'  Good  chickeu  !  Good  bread  !  Good  bacon  !  "  added 
Tom.     ''Are  the  folks  at  home,  Blackee?" 

"  No,  sar  ;  uobody  but  de  women  Iblk.s,  sar.  "NVlio's 
you,  sar  ?  " 

"  It  dou't  make  much  ditfereuce  who  I  am.  Where's 
your  master?" 

''Goue  to  Richmond,  sar.  He's  member  ob  Con- 
gress." 

"  Then  he's  in  poor  business,  Blackee,"  said  Tom, 
as  he  took  out  his  handkerchief,  and  proceeded  to 
transfer  the  remnants  of  his  supper  to  its  capacious 
folds. 

''  Better  luff  dem  tings  alone,  sar." 

But  Tom  refused  to  "luff  dem  alotie,"  and  when 
he  had  placed  them  on  the  handkerchief,  he  made  a 
bundle  of  them. 

"  Golly,  sar !  I'll  tell  my  missus  what's  gwine  on 
doAvn  here,"  added  the  servant,  as  lie  moved  towards 
the  door. 

"  See  here,  Blackee,"  interposed  Tom,  pointing  his 
pistol  at  the  negro  ;  "if  you  move,  I'll  put  one  of  these 
balls  through  your  skull." 

"  De  Lud  sabe  us,  massa !  Don't  shoot  dis  nigger, 
massa." 

"  Hold  your  tongue  then,  and  mind  what  I  say." 

"  Yes,  massa,"  whined  the  darkey,  in  the  most  ab- 
\ect  tones. 


202  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

"Now  come  Avitli  me,  Blackee,  aud  if  you  open 
your  mouth,  one  of  these  pills  shall  go  down  your 
throat." 

Tom  flourished  his  pistol  before  the  negro,  and  led 
the  way  to  the  Avindow  by  which  he  had  entered  the 
house.  Passing  out  upon  the  veranda,  lie  cautiously 
conducted  the  terrified  servant  to  the  road  ;  and  when 
they  had  gone  a  short  distance,  he  halted. 

"Now,  Blackee,  what  town  is  this?"  demanded 
Tom. 

"  Leeds  Manor,  sar,"  replied  the  trembling  negro. 

"How  far  is  it  to  the  Shenandoah  River?" 

"  Only  two  or  tree  miles,  massa.  Now  let  dis  chile 
go  home  again." 

"  Not  yet." 

"  Hab  mercy  on  dis  nigger  dis  time,  and  sabe 
him." 

"  I  won't  hurt  you,  if  you  behave  yourself." 

Tom  questioned  him  for  some  time  in  regard  to  the 
river,  and  the  to^viis  upon  its  banks ;  and  when  he 
had  obtained  all  the  information  in  regard  to  the 
valley  which  the  servant  possessed,  he  resumed  his 
journey,  driving  the  negro  before  him. 

"  Spare  dis  chile,  massa,  for  de  sake  ob  de  wife 
and  chil'n,"  pleaded  the  unwilling  guide. 

"  I  tell  you  I  won't  hurt  you  if  you  behave  your- 
felf,"    replied    Tom.      "  You'll    have    the   whole    place 


To^f  so^ff:Ii^  ly  the  army.  203 

dowm  upon  me  in  half  an  hour,  if  I  let  you  go 
now." 

*'  No,  massa  ,•  dis  nigger  won't  say  one  w^ord  'bout 
you,  nor  dc  tings  you  took  from  de  house  —  not  one 
word,  massa.  Spare  dis  chile,  and  luff  him  go 
home." 

But  Tom  compelled  him  to  walk  before  him  till 
tlicy  came  to  the  river.  The  place  was  called  Sea- 
burn's  Ford. 

"  Now,  Blackee,  if  any  body  wants  me,  tell  them  I've 
gone  to  Winchester,"  said  Tom,  when  he  had  ordered 
his  escort  to  halt. 

"No,  massa,  I  won't  say  one  word,"  replied  the 
servant. 

"  If  you  do,  I'll  shoot  you  the  very  next  time  I  see 
you  —  depend  upon  that.     You  can  go  now." 

The  negro  was  not  slow  to  avail  himself  of  this 
privilege,  and  ran  off,  evidently  expecting  a  bullet  from 
the  revolver  would  overtake  him  before  he  had  gone 
far,  for  he  glanced  fearfully  over  his  shoulder,  begging 
his  captor  not  to  shoot  him. 

Tom  stood  upon  the  bank  of  the  Shenandoah.  The 
negro  had  told  him  that  he  was  about  thirty  miles 
from  Harper's  Ferry,  which  he  knew  was  in  possession 
of  General  Patterson's  forces.  Attached  to  a  tree  on 
the  shore  was  a  small  flat-bottomed  boat,  which  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  soldier  boy.     Tom  was  accustomed 


204 


THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 


to  boats,  and  the  sight  of  this  one  suggested  a  change 
of  programme,  for  it  would  be  much  easier  to  float  down 
the  stream,  than  to  walk  the  thirty  miles.  This  was  a 
point  which  needed  no  argument ;  and  unfastening  the 
painter  of  the  boat,  he  jumped  in,  and' pushed  off.  Seat- 
ing himself  in  the  stern,  with  tlie  paddle  in  his  hand,  he 
kc})t  her  head  with  the  current,  and  swept  down  the 
rapid  stream  like  a  dreamy  youth  just  starting  upon  the 
voyage  of  life. 

Like  the  pilgrim  on  the  sea  of  time,  Tom  was  not 
familiar  with  the  navigation  of  the  Shenandoah,  and  he 
had  neither  chart  nor  compass  to  assist  him.  The  cur- 
rent was  very  swift,  and  once  in  a  while  the  bateau 
bumped  upon  a  concealed  rock,  or  bar  of  sand.  Fortu- 
nately no  serious  accident  occurred  to  him,  though  he 
found  that  the  labor  of  managing  the  boat  was  scarcely 
less  than  that  of  w^alking. 

Tliere  was  one  consolation  about  it ;  he  was  in  no 
danger  of  missing  the  road,  and  he  w^as  not  bothered  by 
Confederate  soldiers  or  inquisitive  civilians.  His  light 
bark  rushed  on  its  way  down  the  stream,  without 
attracting  the  notice  of  any  of  the  inhabitants,  if  any 
were  abroad  at  that  unseemly  hour  of  the  night.  The 
difficulties  of  the  navigation  were  overcome  w^ith  more 
or  less  labor,  and  when  the  day  dawmed,  Tom  made  up 
his  mind  that  he  had  done  a  good  night's  w^ork  ;  and 
choosing  a  secluded  nook  by  the  side  of  the  river,  he 


TOM   SOMERS    IX    THE   ARMY.  205 

hauled  up  his  boat,  intending  to  wait  for  tht  return  of 
darkness. 

Tlie  phice  he  had  chosen  appeared  to  be  far  from  any 
habitation,  and  he  ate  his  breakfast  in  a  very  hopeful 
frame  of  mind.  Though  he  was  not  very  tired  or  very 
sleepy,  yet  for  the  want  of  something  better  to  do,  he 
felt  compelled  to  go  to  sleep,  hoping,  as  on  the  previous 
day,  to  dispose  of  the  weary  hours  in  this  agreeable 
manner.  His  pastime,  however,  was  soon  interrupted 
by  loud  shouts  and  the  tramp  of  men,  not  far  from  the 
spot  where  he  lay.  A  hurried  examination  of  the  sur- 
roundings assured  him  that  he  had  chosen  a  resting 
place  near  one  of  the  fords  of  the  river,  over  which  » 
rebel  regiment  was  then  passing. 


206 


THE    SOLDIER    BOY,   OM 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

THE    PROBLEM    OF    RATIONS. 

/^^IIE  ford  over  which  the  rebel  regiment  was  pass- 
i  I  ing  was  only  a  few  rods  distant  from  the  place 
VJjy  where  Tom  had  concealed  himself  and  his  boaU 
When  he  discovered  the  soldiers,  he  was  thrilled  with 
terror  ;  and,  fully  believing  that  his  hour  had  come,  he 
dropped  upon  the  ground,  to  wait,  in  trembling  anxiety, 
the  passage  of  the  troops.  It  Avar  a  regiment  of  Vir- 
ginia mountaineers,  clothed  in  the  most  fantastic  style, 
with  hunting-shirts  and  coon-skin  caps.  They  yelled  and 
howled  like  so  many  wildcats. 

From  his  hiding  place  on  the  bank  of  the  stream,  he 
obtained  a  good  vieAv  of  the  men,  as  they  waded  across 
the  river.  He  was  fearful  that  some  of  them  might 
stray  from  the  ranks,  and  stumble  upon  his  place  of 
refuge  ;  but  a  kind  Providence  put  it  into  their  heads  to 
mind  their  own  business,  and  Tom  gathered  hope  as  the 
yeUs  of  the  mountaineers  grew  indistinct  in  the  distance. 

"  This  is  no  place  for  me,"  said  Tom  to  himself,  when 
the  sounds  had  died  away  in  the  direction  of  the  Blue 


TO.V   SOMERS   I\    THJi    ARMY.  207 

Ridge.  "  A  whole  army  of  them  may  camp  near  that 
lord,  and  drive  me  out  of  my  hiding  place." 

Jumping  into  the  bateau  again,  he  waited  till  he  was 
satisfied  no  carriage  or  body  of  troops  was  in  the 
vicinity ;  and  then  plying  the  paddle  with  the  utmost 
vigor,  he  passed  tlie  ford.  But  then  he  found  that  the 
public  highway  ran  along  the  banks  of  the  river,  which 
exposed  him  to  increased  risk  of  being  seen.  A  couple 
of  vehicles  passed  along  the  road  while  he  w^as  in  this 
exposed  situation  ;  but  as  the  occupants  of  them  seemed 
to  take  no  notice  of  him,  he  congratulated  himself  upon 
his  escape,  for  presently  the  boat  was  beneath  the  shad- 
ows of  the  great  trees.  Finding  a  suitable  place,  he 
again  hauled  up,  and  concealed  himself  and  the  bateau.    * 

As  all  danger  seemed  to  have  passed,  Tom  com- 
posed his  nerves,  ate  his  dinner,  and  went  to  sleep  as 
usual ;  but  his  rest  was  not  so  tranquil  as  he  had  en- 
joyed in  the  solitudes  of  the  mountains.  Visions  of  rebel 
soldiers  haunted  his  dreams,  and  more  than  once  he 
started  up,  and  gazed  wildly  around  him  ;  but  these  were 
only  visions,  and  there  was  something  more  real  to  dis- 
turb his  slumbers. 

"Hi!  Who  are  you?"  exclaimed  a  wildcat  soldier, 
who  had  penetrated  the  thicket  without  distm-bing  the 
sleeper. 

Tom  started  up,  and  sprang  to  his  feet.  One  of  the 
tall  mountaineers,  whom  he  had  seen  crossing  the  ford, 


208  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

stood  before  him  ;  and  the  reality  was  even  more  appall- 
ing than  the  vision. 

"Who  mought  you  be?"  demanded  the  tall  soldiei, 
with  a  good-natured  grin  upon  his  greasy  face. 

"  Faith  !  I  believe  I've  been  asleep  !  "  said  Tom,  rub- 
bing his  eyes,  and  looking  as  innocent  as  a  young  lamb. 

"  You  may  bet  your  life  on  thet,  my  boy,"  replied  the 
rebel,  laughing.  "  Hi !  Jarvey  ! "  added  he,  apparently  ad- 
dressing a  companion  at  no  great  distance  from  the  spot. 

Heavy  footsteps  announced  the  approach  of  Jarvey, 
who  soon  joined  them.  He  was  not  less  than  six  feet 
three  inches  in  height,  and,  with  two  such  customers  as 
these,  Tom  had  no  hope  except  in  successful  strategy. 
He  had  no  doubt  they  had  obtained  information  of  him 
from  the  persons  in  the  vehicles,  and  had  come  to  secure 
him.  He  fully  expected  to  be  marched  off  to  the  rebel 
regiment,  which  could  not  be  far  off. 

""NVlio  is  he,  Sid?"  asked  Jarvey,  when  he  reached 
the  spot. 

"  Dunno.     Say,  who  are  ye,  stranger? " 

"Who  am  I?  Tom  Somers,  of  course.  Do  you 
V>  long  to  that  regiment  that  stopped  over  yonder  last 
night?"  asked  Tom,  with  a  proper  degree  of  enthusiasm. 
"  Don't  you  know  me?  " 

"  Well,  we  don't." 

"  Didn't  you  see  me  over  there?  That's  a  bully  regi- 
ment of  yours.     I'd  like  to  join  it." 


TO.v  so.yrEHS  in  the  army.  209 

"Would  you,  though,  sonny?"  said  Sid,  hiughing  till 
his  mouth  opened  wide  enough  for  a  railroad  train  to 
pass  in. 

"  Wouldn't  I,  though  !  "  replied  Tom.  "  If  there's 
any  big  fighting  done,  I'll  bet  your  boys  do  it." 

'•Bet  your  life  on  thet,"  added  Jarvey.  ''But  why 
don't  you  jine  a  regiment  ?  " 

"  Don't  want  to  join  any  regiment  that  comes  along. 
I  want  to  go  into  a  fighting  regiment,  like  yours." 

"•  Well,  sonny,  you  ain't  big  enough  to  jine  ours,"  said 
Sid,  as  he  compassionately  eyed  the  young  man's  diminu- 
tive proportions. 

**  The  old  man  wouldn't  let  me  go  in  when  I  wanted 
to,  and  I'm  bound  not  to  go  in  any  of  your  fancy  regi- 
ments.    I  want  to  fight  when  I  go." 

"  You'll  do,  sonny.      Noav,  what  ye  doing  here?  " 

*"  I  came  out  a-fishiug,  but  I  got  tired,  and  went  to 
Jileep." 

*'  Where's  your  fish-line  ?  " 

"In  the  boat." 

"  What  ye  got  in  that  handkerchief?  " 

"  My  dinner,"  replied  Tom.     "  Won't  you  take  a  bite  ?  " 

•^AYhatye  got?" 

"  A  piece  of  cold  chicken  and  some  bread." 

"  We  don't  mind  it  now,  sonny.     Ilev  you  seen  any 
men   with   this    gear    on    in    these  yere    parts?"    asked 
Jarvey,  as  he  pointed  to  his  uniform. 
18* 


220  THE   SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

"  5res,  s/r,"  replied  Tom,  vigorously. 

"  "Whar  d'  ye  see  'em,  sonny  ?  " 

*'  They  crossed  the  ford,  just  above,  only  a  little  whih 
ago." 

"  How  many?" 

"  Two,"  replied  Tom,  with  promptness. 

"Where's  the  other?"  asked  Jarvey,  turning  to  hii 
companion. 

''  He's  in  these  yere  woods,  somewhar.  AVe'll  fotch 
'em  before  night.  You  say  the  two  men  crossed  the  ford 
—  did  ye,  sonny?" 

"  Yes,  half  an  hour  ago.  What  is  the  matter  with 
them?" 

"  They're  mean  trash,  and  want  to  run  off.  Now, 
gonny,  'spose  you  put  us  over  the  river  in  your  boat." 

''  Yes,  sir  !  "  replied  Tom,  readily. 

The  two  wildcats  got  into  the  bateau,  nearly  swamp- 
ing it  by  their  gi-eat  weight,  and  Tom  soon  landed  them 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river. 

"  Thank  'e,  sonny,"  said  Jarvey,  as  they  jumped  on 
shore.  ''  If  you  were  only  four  foot  higher,  we'd  like  to 
take  you  into  our  regiment.  You'll  make  a  right  smart 
chance  of  a  soldier  one  of  these  yere  days.  Good  by, 
sonny." 

"  Good  by,"  answered  Tom.  as  he  drew  a  long  breath, 
indicative  of  his  satisfaction  at  being  so  well  rid  of  hii 
passengers. 


TO.V   SO.VEIiS    TX    THE  ARMY.  211 

lie  had  fully  persuaded  himself  that  he  should  be  car- 
pied  off  a  prisoner  to  this  ^vildeat  regiment,  and  he  could 
hardly  believe  his  senses  when  he  found  himself  again 
■ttfely  floating  down  the  rapid  tide  of  the  Shenandoah. 
His  impudence  and  his  self-possession  had  saved  him  ; 
but  it  was  a  mystery  •to  him  that  his  uniform,  or  the 
absence  of  his  fish-line,  or  the  answers  he  gave,  had  not 
betrayed  him.  The  mountaineers  had  probably  not  yet 
seen  a  United  States  uniform,  or  they  would,  at  least, 
have  questioned  him  about  his  dress. 

Tom  ran  down  the  river  a  short  distance  farther  before 
he  ventured  to  stop  again,  for  he  could  not  hope  to  meet 
with  many  rebel  soldiers  who  were  so  innocent  and  inex- 
perienced as  these  wildcats  of  the  mountains  had  been. 
When  the  darkness  favored  his  movements,  he  again 
embarked  upon  his  voyage.  Twice  during  the  night  his 
boat  got  aground,  and  once  he  Avas  pitched  into  tlie 
river  by  striking  upon  a  rock  ;  but  he  escaped  these  and 
other  perils  of  the  navigation  with  nothing  worse  than  a 
thorough  ducking,  which  was  by  no  means  a  new  expe- 
rience to  the  soldier  boy.  In  the  morning,  well  satisfied 
witli  his  niglit's  work,  he  laid  up  for  the  day  in  the  safest 
place  he  could 'find. 

On  the  second  day  of  his  voyage  down  the  river,  the 
old  problem  of  rations  again  presented  itself  for  consid' 
oration,  for  the  ham  and  chicken  he  had  procured  at 
Leed's  Manor  were   all  gone.      There  w^ere   plenty  of 


212  THE   SOLDTEn    BOY,  OR 

houses  on  the  hanks  of  the  river,  hut  Tom  liad  hoped  to 
complete  liis  cruise  ^vithout  the  necessity  of  again  expos- 
ing himself  to  tlie  peril  of  heing  captured  ^vhile  foraging 
for  the  commissary  department.  But  the  question  was 
as  imperative  as  it  had  been  several  times  before,  and 
twelve  hours  fasting  gave  him  only  a  faint  hint  of  what  his 
necessities  might  compel  him  to  endure  in  twenty-four  or 
forty-eight  hours.  He  did  not  consider  it  wise  to  post- 
pone the  settlement  of  the  problem  till  he  was  actually 
suffering  for  the  Avant  of  food.     _ 

On  the  third  night  of  his  voyage,  therefore,  he  hauled 
up  the  bateau  at  a  convenient  place,  and  started  off  upon 
a  foraging  expedition,  intending  to  visit  some  farmer's 
kitchen,  and  help  himself,  as  he  had  done  on  a  former 
occasion.  Of  course,  Tom  had  no  idea  where  he  was  ; 
but  he  hoped  and  believed  that  he  should  soon  reach 
Harper's  Ferry. 

After  making  his  way  through  the  woods  for  half  a 
mile,  he  came  to  a  public  road,  which  he  followed  till  it 
brought  him  to  a  house.  It  was  evidently  the  abode  of 
a  thrifty  farmer,  for  near  it  were  half  a  dozen  negro 
houses.  As  the  dwelling  had  no  long  windows  in  front, 
Tom  Avas  obliged  to  approach  the  place  b}^  a  flank  and 
rear  movement ;  but  the  back  door  Avas  locked.  He  tried 
the  Avindows,  and  they  were  fastened.  "Wliile  he  was 
reconnoitring  the  premises,  he  heard  heaA-y  footsteps 
Avithin.  Returning  to  the  door,  he  knocked  Aigorously 
for  admission. 


TOM   SOATEHS   IX    THE    AJiMY.  213 

"  TVlio's  thar?"  said  a  mau,  as  he  threw  the  door 
wide  open. 

''  A  stranger,  wlio  wants  something  to  eat,"  replied 
Tom,  boldly. 

"'V\nio  are  ye?" 

"  My  name  is  Tom  Somers,"  added  the  soldier  boy, 
as  he  stepped  into  the  house.  "  Can  you  tell  me  whether 
the  Seventh  Georgia  Regiment  is  down  this  way?" 

*'  I  reckon  'tis ;  least  wise  I  don't  know.  There's 
three  rigiments  about  five  mile  below  yere." 

^- 1  was  told  my  regiment  was  down  this  way,  and  I'm 
trying  to  find  it.  I'm  half  starved.  Will  you  give  me 
something  to  eat  ?  " 

"  Sartiu,  stranger  ;  I'll  do'thet." 

The  man,  who  was  evidently  the  proprietor  of  the 
house,  brought  up  the  remnant  of  a  boiled  ham,  a  loaf 
of  white  bread,  some  butter,  and  a  pitcher  of  milk. 
Tom  ate  till  he  was  satisfied.  The  farmer,  in  deference 
to  his  amazing  appetite  probably,  suspended  his  questions 
till  the  guest  began  to  show  some  signs  of  satiety,  when 
he  pressed  him  again  as  vigorously  as  though  he  had 
been  born  and  brought  up  among  the  hills  of  New  Eng- 
land. 

''  Wliere  d'  ye  come  from?"  said  he. 

*'■  From  Manassas.  I  lost  my  regiment  in  the  fight ; 
and  the  next  day  I  heard  they  had  been  toted  over  this 
way,  and  I  put  after  them  right  smart,"  answered  Tom, 


214  'I'^E    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

a(loptiii<^  as  iniicli  of  the  Georgia  vernacular  as  hii 
kuowledge  Mould  permit. 

"Walk  all  the  way?" 

"  No  ;  I  came  in  the  keers  most  of  the  way." 

*'  But  you  don't  wear  our  colors,"  added  the  farmer, 
glancing  at  Tom's  clothes. 

"My  clothes  Avere  all  worn  out,  and  I  helped  myself 
to  the  best  suit  I  could  find  on  the  field." 

"  AVhat  regiment  did  ye  say  ye  b'longed  to?"  queried 
the  man,  eying  the  uniform  again. 

"  To  the  Seventli  Georgia.  Perhaps  you  can  tell  me 
where  I  shall  find  it." 

"  I  can't ;  but  I  reckon  there's  somebody  liere  that 
can.     I'll  call  him." 

Tom  was  not  at  all  particular  about  obtaining  this 
information.  There  Avas  evidently  some  military  man  in 
the  house,  who  would  expose  him  if  he  remained  any 
longer. 

"Who  is  it,  father?"  asked  a  person  who  had  proba- 
bly heard  a  part  of  the  conversation  we  have  narrated ; 
for  the  voice  proceeded  from  a  bed-room  adjoining  tha 
apartment  in  which  Tom  had  eaten  his  supper. 

"  A  soldier  b'longing  to  the  Seventli  Georgia,"  an- 
swered the  farmer.  "  That's  my  son  ;  he's  a  captain  in 
the  cavalry,  and  he'll  know  all  about  it.  He  can  tell  you 
where  yer  regiment  is,"  added  he,  turning  to  Tom,  who 
was  edging  towards  the  door. 


TOAf  SOMERS    IX    THE   AliMY.  215 

*'  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  my  supper,"  said 
the  fugitive,  nervously.    "  I  reckon  I'll  be  moving  along." 
'•  AVait  half  a  second,  and  my  son  will  tell  you  just 
where  to  find  your  regiment." 

"The  Seventh  Georgia?"  said  tiie  captain  of  cavalry, 
entering  the  room  at  this  moment  with  nothing  but  his 
pants  on.  "  There's  no  such  regiment  up  here,  and 
hasn't  been.     I  reckon  you're  a  deserter." 

"  No,  sir !  I  scorn  the  charge,"  replied  Tom,  with 
becoming  indignation.     "  I  never  desert  my  colors." 

"  I  suppose  not,"  added  the  officer,  glancing  at  his 
uniform  ;  "  but  your  colors  desert  you." 

Tom  failed  to  appreciate  the  wit  of  the  reply,  and 
backed  off  towards  the  door,  with  one  hand  upon  the 
stock  of  his  revolver. 

"  Hold  on  to  him,  father  ;  don't  let  him  go,"  said  the 
officer,  as  he  rushed  l^ack  into  his  chamber,  evidently  for 
his  pistols  or  his  sabre. 

"  Hands  off,  or  you  are  a  dead  man  !  "  cried  Tom,  as 
he  pointed  his  revolver  at  the  head  of  the  farmer. 

In  another  instant,  the  captain  of  cavalry  re-appeared 
w^ith  a  pistol  in  each  hand.  A  stunning  report  resounded 
/hrough  the  house,  and  Tom  heard  a  bullet  whistle  by 
liis  head. 


216  2V/Jb'    SOLDIER    BOY,    Gu 


CHAPTER    XXII. 


THE    PICKET    GUARD. 


T  was  sufficiently  obvious  to  Tom  that,  on  the 
present  occasion,  the  suspicions  of  his  host 
were  awakened.  It  is  possible  that,  if  he  had 
depended  upon  his  impudence,  he  might  have  suc- 
ceeded in  deceiving  the  Confederate  officer ;  but  his 
evident  intention  to  retire  from  the  contest  before 
an  investigation  could  be  had,  proved  him,  in  the 
estimation  of  the  captain,  to  be  either  a  spy  or  a 
deserter,  and  shooting  him  was  preferable  to  losing 
him. 

The  officer  fired  quick,  and  with  little  attention  to 
the  important  matter  of  a  steady  aiiil ;  and  Tom  had 
to  thank  his  stars  for  the  hasty  shot,  for,  though  it 
went  within  a  few  inches  of  his  head,  "  a  miss  was 
a*'  good  as  a  mile,"  and  the  brains  of  our  hero  re- 
mained intact  and  complete.  But  he  was  not  willing 
to  be  the  subject  of  any  further  experiments  of  this 
description,  and  Avithout  waitiuo;  further  to  express -his 
gratitude  to  the  host  for  the  bountiful  supper  he   had 


TOM  SOMERS   IN   THE  ARMY. 


217 


caien,  he  threw  opeu   the  door,  and  dashed  off  at  the 
top  of  his  speed. 

The  revolver  he  carried  was  a  very  good  implement 
with  which  to  bully  a  negro,  or  an  unarmed  farmer  ;  but 
Tom  had  more  confidence  in  his  legs  than  in  his  skill  a« 
a  marksman,  and  before  the  captain  could  transfer  the 
second  pistol  from  his  left  to  his  right  hand,  he  had 
passed  out  of  the  house,  and  was  concealed  from  his 
pursuers  by  the  gloom  of  the  night.  He  felt  that  he 
liad  had  a  narrow  escape,  and  he  was  not  disposed  to 
trifle  with  destiny  by  loitering  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
house. 

He  had  not  proceeded  fiir  before  he  heard  a  hue  and 
cry  behind  him  ;  and  if  the  captain  of  cavalry  had  not 
stopped  to  put  on  his  boots,  it  is  more  than  possible 
that  our  humble  volume  might  have  contained  a  chap- 
ter or  two  upon  prison  life  in  Richmond.  Undoubtedly 
it  was  quite  proper  for  the  officer  to  put  on  his  boots 
before  he  went  out  ;  a  decent  regard  for  his  individual 
sanitary  condition,  and  a  reasonable  horror  of  ague  and 
rheumatism,  would  have  induced  him  to  do  it,  even 
at  the  risk  of  losing  a  Federal  prisoner,  or  a  rebel 
deserter,  as  the  case  might  be.  At  any  rate,  if  Tom 
had  kno-v^Ti  the  cause  of  the  delay,  he  would  freely 
have  forgiven  him  for  wasting  his  time  in  healthful 
precautions. 

The  fugitive  retraced  his   steps  to  the  river  by  the 
19 


218  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OS 

same  route  he  had  taken  in  approaching  the  hospitable 
roof  of  the  farmer.  As  nearly  as  he  could  judge  by 
the  sounds  that  reached  him  from  the  distance,  the 
officer  and  his  father  were  gathering  up  a  force  to  hunt 
down  the  fugitive.  Tom  jumped  into  the  bateau,  and 
pushed  off.  Keeping  under  the  shadow  of  the  bank 
of  the  river,  he  plied  his  paddle  vigorously,  and  by  the 
time  his  pursuers  arrived  at  the  river,  he  was  a  couple 
of  miles  from  the  spot.  He  could  hear  a  shout  occa' 
sionally  in  the  deep  silence  of  the  night,  but  with  tlie 
distance  between  him  and  the  enemy,  he  felt  entirely 
secure.  The  danger  had  passed,  and  he  floated  leisurely 
on  his  voyage,  buoyant  as  his  light  bark,  and  hopeful  as 
the  dream  of  youth. 

Hour  after  hour,  in  the  gloom  of  the  solemn  night,  he 
was  borne  by  the  swift  tide  towards  the  lines  of  the 
loyal  army.  The  day  was  dawning,  and  he  was  on  the 
lookout  for  a  suitable  place  to  conceal  himself,  until  the 
friendly  shades  of  night  should  again  favor  his  move- 
ments. After  the  experience  of  the  former  night  near 
Ihe  ford,  he  was  very  cautious  in  the  selection  of  a 
hiding  place.  It  is  not  always  safe  to  be  fastidious  ;  for 
while  Tom  was  rejecting  one  location,  and  Avaiting  for 
another  to  appear,  the  river  bore  him  into  a  tract  of 
very  open  country,  which  was  less  favorable  than  that 
through   which  he  had  just  been  passing. 

The  prospect  began  to  make  him  nervous ;   and  whilt 


TO^f  so^fERS  ly  the  armt.  21& 

he  was  bitterly  regretting  that  he  had  not  moored  the 
boat  before,  lie  was  startled  to  hear  a  sharp,  command- 
ing voice  on  the  bank  at  his  left. 

''Who  comes  there?    Halt!" 

Tom  looked  up,  and  discovered  a  grayback,  stand- 
ing on  the  shore,  very  deliberately  pointing  his  musket 
at  him. 

"Who  comes  there?"  demanded  the  picket;  for  at 
this  point  were  stationed  the  outposts  of  the  rebel 
force  in  the  Shenandoah  valley. 

''  Friend  !  "    rci)lied  Tom. 

"  Halt,  then  !  " 

"  I  would,  if  I  could,"  answered  Tom,  as  hastily  as 
possible. 

"  Hah,  or  I'll  fire  !  " 

"  I  tell  you  I  can't  halt,"  replied  Tom,  using  his 
paddle  vigorously,  as  though  he  was  trying  to  urge  the 
bateau  to  the  shore.  "  Don't  fire  !  For  mercy's  sake, 
don't  fire." 

Tom  appeared  to  be  intensely  frightened  at  the  situ- 
ation in  which  he  was  placed,  and  redoubled  his  ef- 
forts apparently  to  gain  the  bank  of  the  stream  ;  but 
the  more  he  seemed  to  paddle  one  way,  the  more  the 
boat  went  the  other  way.  However  much  Tom  ap- 
peared to  be  terrified  by  the  peril  that  menaced 
him,  it  must  be  confessed  that  he  was  not  wholly 
umnoved. 


220  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

"  Stop  your  boat,  quick ! "  said  the  soldier,  whfl 
had  partially  dropped  his  musket  from  its  menacing 
position. 

"  I  can't  stop  it,"  responded  Tom,  apparently  in  an 
agony  of  terror.     "  I  would  go  ashore  if  I  could." 

"What's  the  matter?" 

''  The  water  runs  so  swift,  I  can't  stop  her  ;  been 
trying  this  two  hours." 

"  You  will  be  inside  the  Yankee  lines  in  half  an 
hour  if  you  don't  fetch  to,"    shouted  the  picket. 

"  Gracious ! "  exclaimed  Tom,  redoubling  his  ef- 
forts. 

But  it  was  useless  to  struggle  with  the  furious  cur- 
rent, and  Tom  threw  himself  into  the  bottom  of  the 
boat,  as  if  in  utter  desperation.  If  Niagara  Falls, 
with  their  thundering  roar  and  fearful  abyss,  had  been 
before  him,  his  agony  could  not  have  been  more  intense, 
as  judged  from  the  shore. 

By  this  time,  the  sentinel  on  the  bank  had  been 
joined  by  his  two  companions,  and  the  three  men  form- 
ing the  picket  post  stood  gazing  at  him,  as  he  abandoned 
himself  to  the  awful  fate  of  being  captured  by  the  blood- 
thirsty Yankees,  to  whose  lines  the  relentless  current 
of  the  Shenandoah  Avas  bearing  liim. 

When  Tom  was  first  challenged  by  the  grayback, 
the  boat  had  been  some  twenty  rods  above  him  ;  and 
it   had   now  passed   the    spot  where  he  stood,   but  the 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE    ARMY.  £21 

rebels  were  still  uear  enough  to  converse  with  him. 
Tom  heard  one  of  them  ask  another  who  he  was. 
Of  course  neither  of  them  knew  who  he  was,  or  where 
he  came  from. 

"  Try  again  ! "  shouted  one  of  the  pickets.  "  The 
Yankees  will  have  you  in  a  few  minutes." 

Tom  did  make  another  ineffectual  effort  to  check  the 
progress  of  the  bateau,  and  again  abandoned  the  attempt 
in  despair.  The  rebels  followed  him  on  the  bank,  en- 
couraging him  with  words  of  cheer,  and  with  dire 
prophecies  of  his  fate  if  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
cruel  Yankees. 

'•Can't  you  help  me?"  pleaded  Tom,  in  accents  of 
despair.  ''  Throw  me  a  rope  !  Do  something  for  me." 
Now,  this  was  a  suggestion  that  had  not  before  oc- 
curred to  the  picket  guard,  and  Tom  would  have  been 
infinitely  wiser  if  he  had  not  put  the  idea  of  assisting 
him  into  their  dull  brains  ;  for  it  is  not  at  all  probabll 
that  they  would  have  thought  of  such  a  thing  them- 
selves, for  the  south,  especially  the  poor  white  trash,  are 
not  largely  endowed  with  inventive  genius. 

"  Save  me  !  Save  me  !  »  cried  Tom,  as  he  saw  the 
rebels  engaged  in  a  hasty  consultation,  the  result  of 
which  was,  that  two  of  them  started  off  upon  the  run 
in  a  direction  at  right  angles   with  the   stream. 

"  Try  again  !  Stick  to  it ! »  shouted  the  picket  left 
un  the  shore. 

19* 


222  ^-^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

"'  I  can't  do  any  more  ;  I'm  all  tired  out,"  replied 
Tom,  throwiug  himself  lor  the  fourth  time  iu  the  bot- 
tom of  the  boat,  the  very  picture  of  despair. 

The  picture  was  very  much  exaggerated  and  over- 
drawn ;  but  as  long  as  the  bullet  from  the  rebel's  musket 
did  not  come  his  way,  Tom  was  satisfied  witli  liis  acting, 
and  hopeful  lor  the  future.  The  man  on  tlie  shore,  full 
of  sympathy  for  the  distressed  and  exhausted  voyager, 
walked  and  ran  so  as  to  keep  up  with  the  refractory 
barge,  which  seemed  to  be  spitefully  hurling  its  agonized 
passenger  into  the  Federal  lines,  Avhcrc  death  and  dun- 
geons lurked  at  every  corner. 

While  this  exciting  drama  was  in  progress,  the  stream 
bore  Tom  to  a  sharp  bend  in  the  river,  where  the  cur- 
rent set  in  close  to  the  shore.  His  attentive  guardian 
on  the  kank  ran  ahead,  and  stationed  himself  at  this 
point,  ready  to  afford  any  assistance  to  the  disconsolate 
navigator  which  the  circumstances  might  permit. 

"  Xow's  your  chance !  "  shouted  he.  "  Gosh  all 
whittaker  !    put  in  now,  and  do  your  pootiest !  " 

Tom  adopted  this  friendly  advice,  and  "  put  in " 
with  all  his  might;  but  the  more  he  ''put  in,"  the 
more  he  put  out — from  the  shore,  whither  the  in- 
auspicious eddies  were  sweeping  him.  If  Tom  had 
not  been  born  in  Pinchbrook,  and  had  a  home  by  the 
sea,  where  boating  is  an  appreciated  accomplishment, 
he  would  probably  have  been  borne   into  the  arms  of 


TOM  SO  ME  US    IX    THE   ARMY.  223 

the  expectant  rebel,  or  received  in  his  vitals  the  oimc^ 
of  cold  lead  which  that  gentleiiiaii's  musket  contained. 
As  it  was,  he  had  the  skill  to  do  what  he  seemed  not 
to  be  doing.  Mr.  Johnny  Reb  evidently  did  not  suspect 
that  Tom  was  '•  playing  'possum,"  as  the  Tennessee 
sharpshooters  would  have  expressed  it.  Tlie  voyager's 
efforts  appeared  to  be  made  in  good  faith ;  and  cer- 
tainly he  applied  himself  with  a  degree  of  zeal  and 
energy  which  ought  to  have  overcome  the  inertia  of 
a  small  gunboat. 

The  bateau  approached  the  point  not  more  than  a 
rod  from  the  waiting  arms  of  the  sympathizing  gray- 
back.  As  it  passed,  he  waded  a  short  distance  into 
the  water,  and  stretched  fortli  his  musket  to  the  un- 
happy voyager.  Tom  threw  down  his  paddle,  and 
sprang  with  desperate  energy  to  obtain  a  hold  upon 
the  gim.  He  even  succeeded  in  grasping  the  end  of 
the  bayonet.  For  a  moment  he  pulled  so  hard  that 
it  was  doubtful  whether  the  bateau  would  be  hauled 
ashore,  or  Secesh  drawn  into  the  deep  water. 

''Hold  on  tight,  my  boy!  Pull  for  your  life!" 
shouted  the  soldier,  highly  excited  by  the  probable 
success  of  his  philanthropic  efforts. 

"  Save  me  !  Save  me  !  "  groaned  Tom,  as  he  tugged, 
or  seemed  to  do  so,  at  the  bayonet. 

Then,  while  the  united  exertions  of  the  saver  and 
the    saved,  in    anticipation,  were  on  the  very  point  of 


224  ^^^    SOIDIER    BOY,    OR 

being  successful,  the  polished  steel  oi'  the  bayonet 
unaccountably  slipped  through  the  fingers  of  Tom, 
and  the  biiteau  was  borne  otf  towards  the  opposite 
shore. 

"  Save  me !  Save  me,"  cried  Tom  again,  in  tones 
more  piteous  thau  ever. 

"What  d'ye  let  go  fur?"  said  the  grayback,  in- 
dignantly, as  his  musket,  which  he  had  held  by  the 
tip  end  of  the  stock,  dropped  into  the  water,  when 
Tom  let  go  of  the  bayonet. 

The  soldier  indulged  in  a  volley  of  peculiarly 
southern  oaths,  with  which  we  cannot  disfigure  our 
page,  even  in  deference  to  the  necessity  of  painting 
a  correct  picture  of  the  scene  we  have  described. 
Tom  had  a  vein  of  humor  in  his  composition,  wliich 
has  already  displayed  itself  in  some  of  the  rough  ex- 
periences of  his  career ;  and  when  he  saAV  the  rebel 
soldier  deprived  of  all  power  to  make  ^var  upon  him, 
either  ofifensive  or  defensive,  he  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  to  celebrate  the  signal  strategical  victory 
he  had  obtained  over  the  picket  guard.  This  trium- 
phal demonstration  was  not  very  dignified,  nor,  under 
the  circumstances ,^  very  prudent  or  sensible.  It  con- 
sisted in  placing  the  thumb  of  his  right  hand  upon 
the  end  of  his  nose,  wliile  he  wiggled  the  four  re- 
maining   digital    appendages  of  the    same    member    in 


TOM   SO  ME  US    IX    THE   ARMY. 


2l'J 


the  most  aggravating  manner,  whistling  Yankee  Doodle 
as  an  accompaniment  to  the  movement. 

If  Secesh  did  not  understand  the  case  before,  he 
did  now  ;  and  fishing  up  his  musket,  he  emptied  the 
warer  out  of  the  barrel,  and  attempted  to  fire  it. 
Luckily  for  Tom,  the  gun  would  not  go  off,  and  he 
•Wept  on  his  way  jubilant  and  joyous. 


Z2Q 


Tin:  SOLDIER  nor,  o, 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 


THE    END    OF    THE    VOYAGE. 


f^^  OM  ■S0MP:RS'S  voyage  down  tlie  Shenaudoah 
/ 1  Avas,  iu  many  respects,  a  type  of  hiimau  life. 
vJ^  He  experieuced  the  various  reverses,  the  trials 
and  hardships,  which  attend  all  sojourners  here  below. 
He  triumphed  over  all  obstacles,  and  when  he  had 
completely  outwitted  the  grayback  who  had  labored 
so  diligently  to  save  him  from  his  impending  fate,  he 
was  at  the  zenith  of  prosperity.  He  had  vanquished 
the  last  impediment,  and  the  lines  of  the  Union  array 
—  the  haven  of  peace  to  him  —  were  only  a  short 
distance  from  the  scene  of  his  victory. 

Prosperity  makes  men  arrogant  and  reckless,  and  I 
am  sorry  to  say  that  it  had  the  same  effect  upon  Tom 
Somers.  If  he  had  been  content  modestly  to  enjoy 
the  victory  he  had  achieved,  it  would  have  been  wiser 
and  safer  for  him  ;  but  Avheu  Fortune  was  kind  to  him, 
he  mocked  her,  and  she  turned  against  him. 

When  he  had  passed  out  of  the  reach  of  the  rebel 
soldier,  whose    musket    had    been    rendered  useless  for 


TO^f    SOAfEJiS   jy    THE    ARMY.  227 

the  time  being,  Tom  believed  that  he  was  safe,  and 
that  he  had  fairly  escaped  from  the  last  peril  tliat 
menaced  him  on  the  voyage.  But  he  was  mistaken  ; 
for  as  the  current  swept  the  bateau  around  the  bend  of 
the  river,  he  discovered,  to  his  astonishment  and  chagrin, 
the  two  sccesh  soldiers,  who  had  left  the  picket  post 
some  time  before,  standing  at  convenient  distances  from 
each  other  and  from  the  shore,  in  the  water,  ready  to 
rescue  him  from  the  fate  before  him.  The  place  they 
had  clioseu  was  evidently  a  ford  of  the  river,  where 
they  intended  to  check  the  boat  in  its  mad  career 
down  the  stream.  They  were  painfully  persistent  in 
their  kind  intentions  to  save  him  from  the  horrible 
Yankees,  and  Tom  wished  they  had  been  less  humane 
and  less  enthusiastic  in  his  cause. 

As  soon  as  Tom  perceived  this  trap,  he  regretted  his 
imprudence  in  betraying  himself  to  the  soldier  from 
whom  he  had  just  escaped.  His  sorrow  was  not 
diminished,  when,  a  few  minutes  later,  he  heard  the 
shouts  of  the  third  soldier,  who,  by  hard  running  across 
the  fields,  had  reached  the  ford  before  him. 

'•  Shoot  liim  !  Shoot  him  !  He's  a  Yankee  !  "  bel- 
lowed the  grayback  on  the  shore. 

Tom  was  appalled  at  these  words,  and  wondered  how 
the  soldier  could  have  found  out  that  he  was  a  Yankee  ; 
but  when  he  recalled  the  fact  that  he  had  entertained 


228  ^^-^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

him  with    Yankee    Doodle    at   their    last    meeting,  tht 
mystery  became  less  formidable. 

*'  Shoot  him  !  He's  a  Yankee  !  "  shouted  Secesh  on 
the  bank  of  the  stream. 

"  AVe've  left  our  guns  on  shore,"  replied  Secesh  in 
the  water. 

"  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  that,"  said  Tom 
to  himself,  as  he  grasped  his  paddle,  and  set  the  boat 
over  towards  the  right  bank  of  the  river. 

No  doubt  the  rebels  in  the  water,  when  they  saw  with 
what  facility  the  boatman  moved  the  bateau  in  the  swift 
tide,  as  compared  with  his  futile  efforts  farther  up  the 
stream,  were  fully  satisfied  of  the  truth  of  their  com- 
panion's assertion.  Tom  decided  to  run  the  gantlet 
between  the  right  bank  and  the  soldier  nearest  to  that 
shore.  He  paddled  the  bateau  Avith  all  his  vigor,  until 
he  had  obtained  the  desired  position. 

The  graybacks  in  the  water,  realizing  that  they  were 
engaged  on  an  errand  of  peace  and  humanity,  had  left 
their  muskets  on  shore.  They  were,  therefore,  compara- 
tively harmless  ;  but  the  one  on  shore  had  reached  the 
ford,  and  picking  up  one  of  the  muskets  of  his  com- 
panions, without  threat  or  warning,  fired.  It  was 
lucky  for  Tom  that  he  was  not  a  Tennessee  sharp- 
shooter, nor  a  Texas  ranger,  for  the  shot  passed  harm- 
lessly over  him.  The  soldier  dropped  the  gun,  and 
picked  up  the  other,  which  he  instantly  discharged,  and 


TOM  SOME  US  j:v  the  army. 


229 


Kith  better  aim  than  before,  for  the  ball  struck  the 
bateau,  though  not  within  four  feet  of  where  Tom 
stood. 

''  Don't  waste  your  powder,  if  you  can't  shoot  bette^ 
than  that,"  shouted  one  of  the  soldiers  in  the  water. 
"  You'll  hit  us  next." 

^'  Stop  him,  then !  vStop  him ! "  replied  the  gray, 
back  on  the  shore.     "  Kill  him  if  you  can." 

Tom  was  paddling  with  all  his  might  to  pass  the 
ford  before  the  soldier  nearest  to  him  should  reach  a 
position  in  which  he  could  intercept  the  boat.  The 
rebel  was  an  enterprising  fellow,  and  the  soldier  boy's 
chances  were  growing  amazingly  small.  Secesh  had 
actually  reached  a  place  where  he  could  make  a  dash 
at  the  boat.  There  he  stood  witli  a  long  bowie-knife 
between  his  teeth,  and  with  both  hands  outstretched, 
ready  to  seize  upon  the  unfortunate  bark.  He  looked 
grim  and  ferocious,  and  Tom  saw  that  he  was  thoroughly 
in  earnest. 

It  was  a  trying  situation  for  a  boy  of  Tom's  years, 
and  he  would  fain  have  dodged  the  issue.  That  bowie- 
knife  had  a  wicked  look,  though  it  was  mild  and  tame 
compared  with  the  savage  eye  of  the  rebel  who  held  it. 
As  it  was  a  case  of  life  and  death,  the  fugitive  braced 
himself  up  to  meet  the  shock.  Taking  his  position  in 
the  stern  of  the  boat,  he  hcM  the  paddle  in  his  left 
hand,  while  his  right  firmly  grasped  his  revolver.  It 
2Q 


230  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,   OR 

was  either  "  kill  or  be  killed,"  and  Tom  was  not  so 
sentimental  as  to  choose  the  latter  rather  than  the  for- 
mer, especially  as  his  intended  victim  was  a  secessionist 
and  a  rebel. 

*'  Keep  off,  or  you  are  a  dead  man,"  shouted  Tom,  ai 
he  flourished  his  pistol  so  that  his  assailant  could  obtain 
a  fair  view  of  its  calibre,  and  in  the  hope  that  the  fellow 
>vould  be  willing  to  adopt  a  politician's  expedient,  and 
compromise  the  matter  by  retiring  out  of  range. 

'^  Tew  kin  play  at  that  game.  This  yere  toothpick 
will  wipe  you  out,"  coolly  replied  the  fellow,  as  he  made 
a  spring  at  the  boat. 

''  Stand  off!  "  screamed  Tom,  as  he  raised  the  pistol, 
and  fired. 

It  was  a  short  range,  and  Tom  would  have  been  in- 
excusable if  he  had  missed  his  aim.  The  rebel  struck 
his  chest  with  his  right  hand,  and  the  bowie  knife 
dropped  from  his  teeth  ;  but  with  his  left  hand  he  had 
grasped  the  gunwale  of  the  boat,  and  as  he  sunk 
do^vn  in  the  shallow  water,  he  pulled  the  bateau  over 
on  one  side  till  the  water  poured  in,  and  threatened  to 
swamp  her.  Fortunately  the  wounded  man  relaxed 
his  hold,  the  boat  righted,  and  Tom  commenced  pad- 
dling ap-ain  with  all  his  stren^rth  and  skill. 

The  other  soldier  in  the  v^'■ater,  as  soon  as  he  dis- 
covered where  Tom  intended  to  pass,  hastened  over 
to  assist  his  associate.     The  shouts  of  their  companioD 


DOWN  THE   SHENANDOAH.  — Page  230. 


_5 


-t3 


en 


J 


TOM   SO  ME  US    IX    THE   ARMY.  231 

on  shore  had  fully  fired  their  southern  hearts,  and 
6oth  of  them  were  ten  times  as  zealous  to  kill  or  capture 
a  Yankee,  as  they  had  been  to  save  a  Virginian.  AVhen 
the  wounded  man  clutched  the  boat,  the  other  was  not 
more  than  ten  feet  from  him,  but  farther  down  the 
stream.  His  associate  fell,  and  he  sprang  forward  to 
engage  in  the  affray. 

'••  Stand  off,  or  you  are  a  dead  man  !  "  yelled  Tom, 
with  emphasis,  as  he  plied  his  paddle  with  renewed 
energy,  for  he  saw  that  the  man  could  not  reach 
him. 

The  bateau  passed  them  both,  and  Tom  began  to 
breathe  easier.  The  second  rebel,  finding  he  could 
not  capture  or  kill  the  detested  Yankee,  went  to  the 
assistance  of  his  companion.  The  soldier  boy  sus- 
pended his  exertions,  for  the  danger  seemed  to  be  over, 
and  gazed  with  interest  upon  the  scene  which  was  trans- 
piring in  the  water  just  above  him.  He  Avas  anxious  to 
know  whether  he  had  killed  the  rebel  or  not.  There 
was  something  awful  in  the  circumstances,  for  the  sol- 
dier boy's  sensibilities  were  too  acute  to  permit  him  to 
take  a  human  life,  though  it  was  that  of  an  enemy, 
without  producing  a  deep  impression  upon  his  mind. 
Perhaps,  in  the  great  battle  in  which  he  had  been  a 
participant,  he  had  killed  several  rebels ;  if  he  had 
done  so,  he  had  not  seen  them  fall.  This  was  the 
first  man    he    had    consciously  killed  or  wounded,  and 


232  ^-^^    SOLDIER    ROY,    OR 

the  fact  was  solemn,  if  not  appalling,  to  the  young 
Boldier. 

As  the  rebel  raised  his  companion  from  the  water 
he  seemed  to  be  dead,  and  Tom  was  forced  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  had  killed  him.  He  had  done 
the  deed  in  self-defence,  and  in  the  strict  line  of  duty. 
He  could  not  be  blamed  even  by  his  enemies  for  the 
act.  He  felt  no  exultation,  and  hoped  from  the  bottom 
of  his  heart  that  the  man  was  prepared  to  meet  his 
Maker,  into  whose  presence  he  had  been  so  suddenly 
summoned. 

Tom  had  heard  the  boys  in  Pinchbrook  talk  lightly 
about  killing  rebels,  and  he  had  talked  so  himself;  but 
the  reality  was  not  so  pleasant  as  it  had  seemed  at  a 
distance.  He  was  sorry  for  the  poor  fellow,  and  wished 
he  had  not  been  obliged  to  kill  him.  It  was  terrible  to 
him,  even  in  battle,  to  take  a  human  life,  to  slay  a  being 
created  in  the  image  of  God,  and  for  whom  Christ  lived 
and  died. 

TVhile  he  was  indulging  in  these  sad  reflections,  he 
heard  a  bullet  whistle  near  his  head.  The  secesh  sol- 
dier on  the  shore  had  loaded  up  his  companions'  muskets, 
and  was  doing  his  best  to  bring  do's^^l  the  lucky  fugitive. 
His  last  shot  was  not  a  bad  one,  and  Tom  could  not 
help  thinking,  if  the  grayback  should  hit  him,  that 
ie  would  not  waste  any  fine  feelings  over  him.  He 
did  not  like  the  sound  of  those  whizzing    bullets,  and 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE   ABMY.  233 

as  he  had  never  boasted  of  his  courage,  he  did  not 
scorn  to  adopt  precautionary  measures.  The  water  was 
three  inches  deep  in  the  bottom  of  the  bateau  ;  but  Tom 
deemed  it  prudent  to  lie  down  there  until  the  current 
should  bear  him  out  of  the  reach  of  the  rebel  bullets. 
He  maintained  this  recumbent  posture  for  half  an 
hour  or  more,  listening  to  the  balls  that  frequently 
whistled  over  his  head.  Once  he  ventured  to  raise 
his  head,  and  discovered,  not  one  man,  but  a  dozen, 
on  the  shore,  wliich  accounted  for  the  rapid  firing  he 
heard.  When  he  looked  up  again,  his  bateau  had 
passed  round  a  bend,  and  he  was  no  longer  exposed 
to  the  fire  of  the  enemy. 

From  his  heart  Tom  thanked  God  for  his  escape. 
He  was  religiously  grateful  for  the  aid  which  Provi- 
dence had  rendered  him,  and  when  he  thought  how  near 
he  had  stood  to  the  brink  of  destruction,  he  realized  how 
narrow  the  span  between  the  Here  and  the  Hereafter. 
And  the  moral  of  his  reflections  was,  that  if  he  stood 
so  near  to  the  open  gate  of  death,  he  ought  always  to 
live  wisely  and  well,  and  ever  be  prepared  to  pass 
the  portals  which  separate  time  from  eternity. 

Tom's  thoughts  were  sad  and  heavy.  He  could  not 
banish  from  his  mind  the  face  of  the  rebel,  as  he 
raised  his  hand  to  his  breast,  where  he  had  received 
his  mortal  wound.  That  countenance,  full  of  hate  and 
revenge,  haunted  him  for  weeks  afterwards,  in  the 
20* 


234  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

solitude  of  his  tent,  and  on  his  midnight  vigils  as  a 
sentinel. 

As  he  sat  in  the  boat,  thinking  of  the  events  of  the 
morning,  and  listening  to  the  mournful  rippling  of  the 
waters,  which,  to  his  subdued  soul,  sounded  like  the 
requiem  of  his  victim,  he  was  challenged  from  the 
shore  again. 

"  Who  comes  there  !  '* 

Tom  jumped  up,  and  saw  a  sentinel  on  the  bank 
pointing  his  gun  at  him.  He  surveyed  the  form  with 
anxious  interest ;  but  this  time  he  had  nothing  to  fear, 
for  the  soldier  wore  the  blue  uniform  of  the  United 
States  army. 

"  Friend,"  replied  he,  as  he  grasped  his  paddle. 

"  Come  ashore,  or  I'll  put  a  bullet  through  you," 
added  the  sentinel. 

"  Don't  do  it !  "  said  Tom,  with  energy.  "  Can't 
you  see  the  colors  I  wear." 

"  Come  ashore,  then." 

"  I  will." 

The  soldier  boy  worked  his  paddle  with  vigor  and 
skill,  and  it  was  astonishing  to  observe  with  what 
better  success  than  when  invited  to  land  by  the  gray- 
back  up  the  river.  The  guard  assisted  him  in  land- 
inoj  and  securino^  his  boat. 

"Who  are  you?"  demanded  he,  as  he  gazed  at 
Tom's  wet  and  soiled  garments. 


TOM  SOMERS   IN    THE   ARMY.  235 

"  I  was  taken  prisoner  at  Bull  Run,  and  came  back 
on  my  own  hook." 

"  Perhaps  you  were,  but  you  can't  pass  these  lines," 
said  the  soldier. 

Tom  was  sent  to  the  Federal  camp,  and  passed  from 
one  officer  to  another,  till  he  was  finally  introduced  to 
General  Banks,  at  Harper's  Ferry.  He  was  questioned 
in  regard  to  his  own  adv^entures,  the  country  he  had 
passed  through,  and  the  troops  of  the  enemy  he  had 
seen.  When,  to  use  his  own  expression,  he  had  been 
"pumped  dry,"  he  was  permitted  to  rest  a  few  days, 
and  then  forwarded  to  his  resriment. 


236  2// A'  5 1 / L I) / L 11  L u y.  o ii 


CHAPTER    XXIV, 


BUDD  S    FERRY. 


CHOUGH  Tom  Somers  had  been  absent  from 
the  regiment  only  a  fortnight,  it  seemed  to 
him  as  though  a  year  had  elapsed  since  the 
day  of  the  battle  when  he  had  stood  shoulder  to 
shoulder  with  his  townsmen  and  friends.  He  had 
been  ordered  to  report  to  the  provost  marshal  at 
Washington,  where  he  learned  that  his  regiment  was 
at  Bladensburg,  about  six  miles  from  the  city.  Being 
provided  with  the  necessary  pass  and  "  transportation," 
he  soon  reached  the  camp. 

*'  Tom  Somers !  Tom  Somers !  "  shouted  several 
of  his  comrades,  as  soon  as  they  recognized  him. 

"  Three  cheers  for  Tom  Somers ! "  shouted  Bob 
Dornton. 

The  soldier  boy  was  a  favorite  in  the  company, 
ind  his  return  was  sufficient  to  justify  such  a  pro- 
ceeding. The  cheers,  therefore,  were  given  with 
tremendous  enthusiasm. 

"  Tom,  I'm  glad  to  see    you ! "    said    old  Hapgood, 


TOM  SOME  US   IN   THE   ARMY.  237 

with  extended  hand,  while  his  eyes  filled  with  tears. 
*''•  I  was  afeard  we  should  never  see  you  again." 

The  fugitive  shook  hands  with  every  member  of  the 
company  who  was  present.  His  reception  was  in  the 
highest  degree  gratifying  to  him,  and  he  was  deter- 
mined always  to  merit  the  good  will  of  his  companions 
in  arms. 

"  Now,  fellows,  tell  us  what  the  news  is,"  said  Tom, 
as  he  seated  himself  on  a  camp  stool  before  the  tent 
of  his  mess. 

^'  There  are  letters  for  you,  Tom,  in  the  hands  of 
the  orderly,"  added  one  of  his  friends.  "  I  suppose 
you  have  got  a  bigger  story,  to  tell  than  any  of  us, 
but  you  shall  have  a  chance  to  read  your  letters 
first." 

These  precious  missives  from  the  loved  ones  at 
home  were  given  to  him,  and  the  soldier  boy  opened 
them  with  fear  and  trembling,  lest  he  should  find  in 
them  some  bad  news ;  but  his  mother  and  all  the 
family  were  well.  One  of  them  was  written  since  the 
battle,  and  it  was  evidently  penned  with  deep  solici- 
tude for  his  fate,  of  which  nothing  had  been  heard. 

Hapgood,  who  sat  by  him  while  he  read  his  letters, 
assured  him  that  his  mother  must  know,  by  this  time, 
that  he  was  not  killed,  for  all  the  men  had  written  to 
their  friends  since  the  battle.  The  captain  who  had 
escaped  from    Sudley  church    had    reported    him    alive 


238  '^^^   SOLDIER   BOY,    OR 

and  well,  but  he  had  no  informaitioa  iu  regard  to  hii 
escape. 

^'  We  are  all  well,  and  every  thing  goes  on  about 
the  same  as  usual  in  Pinchbrook,"  wrote  one  of  his 
older  sisters.  "  John  is  so  bent  upon  going  to  sea  in  the 
navy,  that  it  is  as  much  as  mother  can  do  to  keep  him 
at  home.  He  says  the  country  wants  him,  and  he  wants 
to  go  ;  and  what's  more,  he  must  go.  We  haven't  heard 
a  word  from  father  since  he  left  home  ;  but  Captain  Bar- 
ney read  iu  the  paper  that  his  vessel  had  been  sunk  in 
the  harbor  of  Norfolk  to  block  up  the  channel.  We  can 
only  hope  that  he  is  safe,  and  pray  that  God  will  have 
him  iu  his  holy  keeping. 

"  Squire  Pembertou  was  dreadful  mad  because  his 
son  went  into  the  army.  He  don't  say  a  w^ord  about 
politics  now." 

In  a  letter  from  John,  he  learned  that  Captain  Barney 
had  advanced  the  money  to  pay  the  interest  on  the  note, 
and  that  Squire  Pembertou  had  not  said  a  word  about 
foreclosino^  the  morto^ao-e.  His  brother  added  that  he 
was  determined  to  go  into  the  na^y,  even  if  he  had  to 
run  away.  He  could  get  good  wages,  and  he  thought 
it  was  a  pity  that  he  should  not  do  his  share  towards 
supporting  the  family. 

Tom  finished  his  letters,  and  was  rejoiced  to  find  that 
his  friends  at  home  were  all  well  and  happy ;  and  in 
a   few   days   more,  a   letter  from   him  would   gladden 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE    ARMY.  235 

their  hearts  with  the  intelligence  of  his  safe  return  to 
the  regiment. 

'*  All  well  —  ain't  they  ?  "  asked  Hapgood,  as  Tom 
folded  up  the  letters  and  put  them  in  his  pocket ;  and 
the  veteran  could  not  fail  to  see,  from  the  happy  ex- 
pression of  his  countenance,  that  their  contents  were 
satisfactory. 

''  All  well,"  replied  Tom.  "  Where  is  Fred  Pember- 
ton?    I  haven't  seen  him  yet." 

"  In  the  hospital :  he's  sick,  or  thinks  he  is,"  answered 
Hapgood.  "  Ben  Lethbridge  is  in  the  guard  house. 
He  attempted  to  run  away  while  we  were  coming  over 
from  Shuter's  Hill." 

"Who  were  killed,  and  who  were  wounded?  I 
haven't  heard  a  word  about  the  aifair,  you  know," 
asked  Tom. 

"  Sergeant  Bradford  was  wounded  and  taken  pris- 
oner. Sergeant  Brown  Avas  hit  by  a  shell,  but  not  hurt 
much.  The  second  lieutenant  was  w^ounded  in  the  foot, 
and " 

A  loud  laugh  from  the  men  interrupted  the  state- 
ment. 

"  What  are  you  laughing  at  ?  "    demanded  Tom. 

"  He  resigned,"    added  Bob  Dornton,  chuckling. 

^'  You  said  he  was  wounded  ?  " 

*'  I  didn't  say  so  ;  the  lieutenant  said  so  himself,  and 
hvbbled  about  with  a  big  cane  for  a  week ;  but  as  soon 


240  "^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

as  his  resignation  was  accepted,  he  threw  away  his  stick, 
and  walked  as  well  as  ever  he  could." 

The  boys  all  laughed  heartily,  and  seemed  to  enjoy 
the  joke  prodigiously.  Tom  thought  it  was  a  re- 
markable cure,  though  the  remedy  was  one  which  no 
decent  man  would  be  willing  to  adopt. 

''How's  Captain  Benson?" 

"  He's  better ;  he  felt  awful  bad  because  he  wasn't 
in  that  battle.  The  colonel  has  gone  home,  sick.  He 
has  more  pluck  than  body.  He  was  sun-struck,  and 
dropped  off  his  horse,  like  a  dead  man,  on  the  field. 
It's  a  great  pity  he  hasn't  twice  or  three  times  as  much 
body ;  if  he  had,  he'd  make  a  first-rate  officer." 

It  was  now  Tom's  turn  to  relate  his  adventures  ;  and 
he  modestly  told  his  story.  His  auditors  were  deeply  in- 
terested in  his  narrative,  and  when  he  had  finished,  it  was 
unanimously  voted  that  Tom  was  a  "  trump  ;  "•  which  I 
suppose  means  nothing  more  than  that  he  was  a  smart 
fellow  —  a  position  which  no  one  who  has  read  his 
adventures  will  be  disposed  to  controvert. 

A  long  period  of  comparative  inactivity  for  the  regi- 
ment followed  the  battle  of  Bull  Run.  General  McClellan 
had  been  called  from  the  scene  of  his  brilliant  operations 
in  Western  Virginia,  to  command  the  army  of  the  Po- 
tomac, and  he  was  engaged  in  the  arduous  task  of 
organizing  the  vast  body  of  loyal  troops  that  rushed  for- 
ward to  sustain  the  government  in  this  dark  hour  of  peril- 


TOM   SO^fEliS   IN    THE   ARMY. 


241 


While  at  Bladensburg  the  — th  regiment  with  three 
others  were  formed  into  a  brigade,  the  command  of 
which  was  given  to  Hooker  —  a  name  then  unknown 
beyond  the  circle  of  his  own  friends. 

About  the  first  of  November  the  brigade  was  sent 
Xo  Budd's  Ferry,  thirty  miles  below  Washington,  on 
the  Potomac,  to  watch  the  rebels  in  that  vicinity. 
The  enemy  had,  by  this  time,  closed  the  river  against 
the  passage  of  vessels  to  the  capital,  by  erecting  bat- 
teries at  various  places,  the  principal  of  Avhich  were 
at  Evansport,  Shipping  Point,  and  Cockpit  Point. 
Budd's  Ferry  was  a  position  in  the  vicinity  of  these 
works,  and  the  brigade  was  employed  in  picketing  the 
river,  to  prevent  the  enemy  on  the  other  side  from 
approaching,  and  also  to  arrest  the  operations  of  the 
viler  traitors  on  this  side,  who  were  attempting  to 
send  supplies  to  the  rebels. 

It  was  not  a  very  exciting  life  to  which  the  boys 
of  our  regiment  were  introduced  on  their  arrival  at 
Budd's  Ferry,  though  the  rebel  batteries  at  Shipping 
Point  made  a  gi'eat  deal  of  noise  and  smoke  at  times. 
As  the  season  advanced  the  weather  began  to  grow 
colder,  and  the  soldiers  were  called  to  a  new  experi- 
ence in  military  life ;  but  as  they  were  gradually 
inured  to  the  diminishing  temperature,  the  hardship 
was  less  severe  than  those  who  gather  around  their 
northern  fireside  may  be  disposed  to  imagine.  Tom 
21 


242  ^'^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

continued  to  be  a  philo.sopher,  which  was   better    than 
an  extra  bhinket  ;  and  he  got  along  very  well. 

It  was  a  dark,  cold,  and  windy  night,  in  December, 
when  Tom  found  himself  doing  picket  duty  near  the 
mouth  of  Chickamoxon  Creek.  Nobody  supposed  that 
any  rebel  sympathizer  would  be  mad  enough  to  attempt 
the  passage  of  the  river  on  such  a  night  as  that,  for 
the  Potomac  looked  alive  with  the  angry  waves  that 
beat  upon  hs  broad  bosom.  Hapgood  and  P>ed  Pem« 
berton  were  with  him,  and  the  party  did  the  best  they 
could  to  keep  themselves  comfortable,  and  at  the  same 
time  discharge  the  duty  assigned  to  them. 

"  Here,  lads,"  said  old  Hapgood,  who,  closely  muffled 
in  his  great-coat,  was  walking  up  and  down  the  bank 
of  the  creek  to  keep  the  blood  warm  in  his  veins. 

"What  is  it,  Hapgood?"  demanded  Fred,  who  was 
coiled  up  on  the  lee  side  of  a  tree,  to  protect  him  from 
the  cold  blast  that  swept  down  the  creek. 

"  Hush  I  "  said  Hapgood.  "  Don't  make  a  noise  ; 
there's  a  boat  coming.  Down !  down !  Don't  let 
them  see  you." 

Tom  and  Fred  crawled  upon  the  ground  to  the 
verge  of  the  creek,  and  placed  themselves  by  the  sid» 
of  the  veteran. 

"  I  don't  see  any  boat,"    said  Tom. 

"  I  can  see  her  plain  enough,  with  my  old  eyes. 
Look  up  the  creek." 


TOM  SO^fEIiS   IX    THE   AHMY.  243 

••  Ay,  ay  I     I  see  her." 

*'So  do  I,"    added  Fred.     "What  shall  we  do?" 

"  Stop  her,  of  course,"    replied  Tom. 

"  That's  easy  enough  said,  but  not  so  easily  done 
We  had  better  send  word  up  to  the  battery,  and  let 
them  open  upon  her,"  suggested  Fred. 

''  Open  upon  the  man  in  the  moon  !  "  replied  Tom, 
contemptuously.  "  Don't  you  see  she  is  under  sail, 
and  driving  down  like  sixty  ?     We    must  board  her !  " 

Tom  spoke  in  an  emphatic  whisper,  and  pointed  to 
a  small  boat,  which  lay  upon  the  shore.  The  craft 
approaching  was  a  small  schooner  apparently  about 
five  tons  burden.  The  secessionists  of  Baltimore  or 
elsewliere  had  chosen  this  dark  and  tempestuous  night 
to  send  over  a  mail  and  such  supplies  as  could  not 
be  obtained,  for  love  or  money,  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Potomac.  Of  course,  they  expected  to  run  the 
risk  of  a  few  shots  from  the  Union  pickets  on  the 
river ;  but  on  such  a  night,  and  in  such  a  sea,  there 
was  very  little  danger  of  their  hitting  the  mark. 

Up  the  creek  the  water  was  comparatively  smooth  ; 
but  the  little  schooner  was  driving  furiously  down  the 
stream,  with  the  wind  on  her  quarter,  and  the  chances 
of  making  a  safe  and  profitable  run  to  tlie  rebel  line, 
those  on  board,  no  doubt,  believed  were  all  in  their 
Savor. 

"We    have    no    time  to  lose,"    said  Hapgood,  with 


244  "^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

energy,  as  he  pushed  off  the  boat,  which  lay  upon  the 
beach.  '"'  Tumble  in  lively,  and  be  sure  your  guns 
are  in  good  order." 

"  Mine  is  all  right,"  added  Tom,  as  he  examined 
the  cap  on  his  musket,  and  then  jumped  into  the 
boat. 

''  So  is  mine,"  said  Fred  ;  "  but  I  don't  much  like 
this  business.  Do  you  know  how  many  men  there  are 
in  the  schooner?" 

"  Don't  know,  and  don't  care,"  replied  Tom. 

*'  Of  course  they  are  armed.  They  have  revolvers, 
I'll  bet  my  month's  pay." 

"  If  you  don't  want  to  go,  stay  on  shore,"  answered 
Hapgood,  petulantly.    "  But  don't  make  a  noise  about  it." 

"  Of  course  I'll  go,  but  I  think  we  are  getting  into 
a  bad  scrape." 

Tom  and  Hapgood  held  a  hurried  consultation,  which 
ended  in  the  former's  taking  a  position  in  the  bow  of 
the  boat,  while  the  other  two  took  their  places  at  the 
oars.  The  muskets  were  laid  across  the  thwarts,  and 
the  rowers  pulled  out  to  the  middle  of  the  creek,  just 
in  season  to  intercept  the  schooner.  Of  course  they 
were  seen  by  the  men  on  board  of  her,  who  attempted 
to  avoid  them. 

'^  Hallo ! "  said  Tom,  in  a  kind  of  confidential 
tone.  "  On  board  the  schooner  there  !  Are  you 
going  over  ?  " 


TOM  SOMERS   IN   THE  ARMY.  245 

"  Yes.  What  do  you  waut  ?  "  answered  one  of  the 
men  on  board  the  vessel. 

"  We  want  to  get  over,  and  are  afraid  to  go  in  this 
boat.     Won't  you  take  us  over?" 

"  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  Friends.     We've  o^ot  a  mail  bagr." 

"Where  did  you  get  it?" 

"  In  Washington." 

By  this  time,  the  schooner  had  luffed  up  into  the 
wind,  and  Tom  directed  his  companions  to  pull  again. 
In  a  moment  the  boat  was  alongside  the  schooner,  and 
the  soldier  boy  was  about  to  jump  upon  her  half-deck, 
when  the  rebel  crew,  very  naturally,  ordered  him  to 
wait  till  they  had  satisfied  themselves  in  regard  to  his 
secession  proclivities. 

There  were  five  men  in  the  schooner,  all  of  whom 
were  seated  near  the  stern.  Tom  did  not  heed  the 
protest  of  the  traitors,  but  sprang  on  board  the  schooner, 
followed  by  his  companions. 

"  Now,  tell  us  who  you  are  before  you  come  any 
farther,"    said  one  of  the  men. 

"  Massachusetts  soldiers !    Surrender,   or   you    are  « 
iead  man,"    replied  Tom,  pointing  his  gun. 
21* 


246  THE   SOLDIER   BOY,   OB 


CHAPTER    XXV 


IN   THE    HOSPITAL. 


/^^^HE  night  was  very  dark,  so  that  the  rebel? 
/I  in  the  boat  could  not  distinguish  the  uniform 
vj-^  of  those  ^vho  had  applied  for  a  passage  on 
the  schooner.  Perhaps  Tom  Somers's  experience  in 
the  Blue  Ridge  and  on  the  Shenandoah  had  improved 
his  stragetic  ability,  so  that  his  words  and  his  manner 
seemed  plausible.  But  as  strategy  and  cunning  always 
owe  their  success  to  the  comparative  stupidity  of  the 
victims,  Tom  and  his  companions  gained  the  half-deck 
of  the  schooner  more  by  the  palpable  blundering  of 
her  crew  than  through  the  brilliancy  of  their  own 
scheme. 

Tom  did  not  stop,  in  the  midst  of  the  exciting  enter- 
prise, to  determine  the  particular  reason  of  his  success, 
as  we,  his  humble  biographer,  have  done.  He  was  on 
the  enemy's  ground,  and  confronting  the  enemy's  forces, 
and  logic  was  as  much  out  of  place  as  rebellion  in  a  free 
republican  country.  He  was  closely  followed  by  Hap- 
good,  and  at  a  later  period  by  Fred  Pemberton.     The 


TOM  SOBERS   IN    THE   ARMY.  247 

nerves  of  the  latter  were  not  remarkably  steady,  and  as 
he  stepped  ou  board  the  schooner,  he  neglected  to  take 
the  painter  with  him;  and  the  consequence  was,  that 
the  boat  went  adrift.  It  is  good  generalship  to  keep 
the  line  of  retreat  open  ;  and  Fred's  neglect  had  deprived 
them  of  all  means  of  retiring  from  the  scene  of 
action.  The  only  alternative  was  to  fight  their  way 
through,  and  find  safety  in  success. 

To  Tom's  reply,  that  the  party  were  Massachusetts 
ejoldiers,  the  rebel  who  had  acted  as  spokesman  for 
the  crew,  uttered  a  volley  of  oaths,  expressive  of  his 
indignation  and  disgust  at  the  sudden  check  which  had 
been  given  to  their  prosperous  voyage. 

"  Surrender !  "  repeated  Tom,  in  energetic  tones. 
Two  of  the  rebels  at  the  stern  discharged  their  pis- 
tols in  answer  to  the  summons  —  a  piece  of  impudence 
which  our  Massachusetts  soldiers  could  not  tolerate ; 
and  they  returned  the  fire.  The  secessionists  evidently 
carried  revolvers;  and  a  turn  of  the  barrel  enabled 
them  to  fire  a  second  volley,  which  the  soldiers 
were  unable  to  do,  for  they  had  no  time  to  load  their 
guns. 

''01"  groaned  Fred,  as  he  sunk  down  upon  the  half- 
deck.     "I'm  hit." 

^' We  can't  stand  this,  Hapgood,"  said  Tom,  fiercely, 
as  he  leaped  into  the  midst  of  the  party  in  the  standing 
room.       "  Let's  give   them  the  bayonet." 


248  "^^^    SOLDIER    nOY,    OR 

"  Give  it  to  *em,  Tom  !  "  replied  the  veteran,  as  he 
placed  himself  by  the   side   of  his  young  companion. 

"  Will  you  surrender?"  demanded  Tom,  as  he  thrust 
vigorously  with  his  bayonet. 

"  We  surrender,"  replied  one  of  the  men  ;  but  it  was 
not  the  one  who  had  spoken  before,  for  he  had  dropped 
off  his  seat  upon  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 

"  Give  up  your  pistols,  then,"  added  Hapgood.  "You 
look  out  for  the  boat,  Tom,  and  I  will  take  care  of  these 
fellows." 

Tom  sprang  to  the  position  which  had  been  occupied 
by  the  spokesman  of  the  party,  and  grasping  the  fore- 
sheet  and  the  tiller  of  the  boat,  he  soon  brought  her  up 
to  the  wind.  Seating  himself  in  the  stern,  he  assumed 
the  management  of  the  schooner,  wliile  Hapgood  busied 
himself  in  taking  the  pistols  from  the  hands  of  the 
rebels,  and  exploring  their  pockets,  in  search  of  other 
dangerous  weapons. 

''How  are  you,  Fred?"  shouted  Tom,  when  the 
pressing  business  of  the  moment  had  been  disposed  of. 
"  Are  you  much  hurt  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  my  time's  most  up,"  replied  he, 
faintly. 

"  Where   are  you  hit  ?  " 

"  In  the  face  ;  the  ball  went  through  my  head.  I  sup- 
pose," he  added,  in  tones  that  were  hs-rdly  audible,  in 
the  warring  of  the  December  blast. 


TOM   SOMERS    IN   THE   ARMY.  249 

'*  Keep  up  a  good  heart,  Fred,  aud  we  will  soon  be 
ashore.     Have  you  got   an   easy  place?" 

''  No,  the  water  daslies  over  me." 

*' Cau't   you    move  him  aft,   Hapgood?" 

"  Pretty  soou  ;  when  I  get  these  fellows  fixed,"  r©. 
plied  the  veteran,  who  had  cut  the  rope  nearest  to  his 
hands,  and  was  securing  the  arms  of  the  prisoners  be- 
hind them. 

''  There  is  no  fear  of  them  now.  "We  have  got  two 
revolvers  apiece,  and  we  can  have  it  all  our  own  way, 
if  they  show  fight." 

But  Hapgood  had  bound  the  rebels  by  this  time,  and 
with  tender  care  he  lifted  his  Avounded  companion  down 
into  the  standing  room,  and  made  him  as  comfortable  as 
the  circumstances  would  permit. 

"Now,  where  are  we,  Hapgood?"  asked  Tom,  who 
had  been  vainly  peering  ahead  to  discover  some  familiar 
object  by  which  to  steer.     "  I  can't   see  the  first  thing." 

"  I  don't  know  where  we  are,"  replied  Hapgood. 
**  I  never  was^  much  of  a  sailor,  and  I  leave  the  navi- 
gating all  to  you." 

"  I  can  navigate  well  enough,  if  I  knew  where  we 
were,"  added  Tom,  who  had  tluis  far  been  utterly  un- 
able to  ascertain  the  "  ship's  position." 

During  the  brief  struggle  for  the  possession  of  the 
schooner,  she  had  drifted  some  distance,  which  had 
caused  the  new  commander  to  lose  his  bearings.     The 


250  ^^^   SOLDIER   BOY,  OR 

shore  they  had  just  left  had  disappeared,  as  though  it  had 
been  swallowed  up  by  an  earthquake.  No  lights  were 
allowed  on  shore,  where  they  could  be  seen  from  the 
river,  for  they  afforded  so  many  targets  to  the  artillery- 
men in  the  rebel  batteries.  The  more  Tom  tried  to 
discover  a  familiar  object  to  steer  by,  the  more  it  seemed 
as  though  the  land  and  every  thing  else  had  been  cut 
adrift,  and  emigrated  to  foreign  parts.  Those  who  have 
been  in  a  boat  in  a  very  dark  night,  or  in  a  dense  fog, 
will  be  able  to  appreciate  the  bewilderment  of  the  skipper 
of  the  captured  schooner. 

"■  Look  out,  Tom,  that  you  don't  run  us  into  some  of 
those  rebel  batteries,"  said  Hapgood,  after  he  had 
watched  the  rapid  progress  of  the  boat  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. "  A  shot  from  a  thirty-two  pounder  would  be  a 
pill  we  couldn't  swallow." 

"  No  danger  of  that,  Hapgood,"  answered  Tom, 
confidently. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  my  boy,"  answered  the 
veteran,  in  a  tone  heavy  with  dire  anxiety. 

"  I  know  it.  The  schooner  Avas  running  with  the 
wind  on  her  starboard  quarter  when  we  boarded  her. 
We  are  now  close-hauled,  and  of  course  we  can't  make 
the  shore  on  the  other  side  while  we  are  on  this 
tack." 

'*Well,  I  don't  know  much  about  it,  Tom,  but  if 
you  say  it's  all  right,  I'm  satisfied ;  that's  all.     I'd  trust 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE   ARMY.  251 

you  just  as  far  as  I  would  Oeneral  McClennon,  and  you 
know  we  all  b'lieve  in  him." 

»'  What  arc  you  going  to  do  with  us  ?  "  asked  one  of 
<he  rebels,  who  began  to  exhibit  some  interest  in  the 
(ate  of  the  schooner. 

''  1  suppose  you  will  tind  good  quarters  in  Fort 
McHenry,"    replied  Tom.      "Where  do   you  belong?" 

"  In  Baltimore." 

"What   are  you  doing  here,  then?" 

"  AYe  jro  in  for  the   South." 

"  Go  in,  then  !  "  added  Tom,  laughing. 

"  You'll  fetch  up  where  all  the  rest  of  'em  do," 
said  Hapgood. 

"  How's  that  fellow  that  was  hit?"  asked  Tom,  point' 
ing  to  the  rebel  who  lay  in  the  middle  of  the  standing 
room. 

^'  I  guess  it's  all  right  with  him,"  replied  Ilapgood, 
bending  over  the  silent. form.      "No;  he   isn't  dead." 

"  I  have  it !  "  shouted  Tom,  suddenly  crowding  the 
helm  hard-a-lee. 

"AVTiat,  Tom?" 

"  I  see  where  we  are.  We  are  running  up  the  river. 
I  see   the   land  on   the  weather  bow." 

The  schooner  was  put  about,  and  after  running  with 
the  wind  amidships  for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  Tom  dis- 
covered the  outline  of  Mrs.  Budd's  honso,  which  was 
directly  under  the  guns  of  the  Union  battery. 


252  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

"  Stand  by  the  fore  halliards,  Hapgood,"  said  Tom, 
as  the  boat  came   about   again.     ''  Let  go  !  " 

The  foresail  came  down,  and  Tom  sprang  upon  the 
pier,  as  the  schooner  came  up  under  its  lee.  In  a  mo- 
ment the  boat  Avas  made  fast.  By  this  time  the 
pickets  appeared. 

"Who  comes  there?"    demanded  the  soldier. 

"  Friends  !  "  replied  Tom. 

*'  Advance,  friend,  and  give  the  countersign." 

"  Little  Mac,"  whispered  the  soldier  boy  in  the  ear 
of  the  sentinel. 

"  Who  are  you?" 

"  Co.  K."  answered  Tom. 

"What's  the  row?  The  long  roll  was  beat  just 
now,  and  the  whole  regiment  is  in  line.  What  was 
that  firing?" 

"  We  have  captured  this  boat,  and  five  prisoners, 
one  of  them  wounded,  if  not  dead." 

"  Bully  for  you,"  replied  the  picket. 

They  were  soon  joined  by  a  squad  of  men,  and  Fred 
Pemberton  and  the  wounded  rebel  were  conveyed  to 
the  hospital,  while  the  four,  prisoners  were  conducted 
to  a  secure  place.  Hapgood  and  Tom  then  hastened 
to  the  parade,  where  the  regiment  was  draA\Ti  up,  and 
reported  the  events  which  had  just  transpired.  It  was 
unanimously  voted  by  officers  and  privates  that  the 
picket  guard  had  done    "  a  big  thing,"  and  they  were 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE   ARAfT.  253 

warmly  aud  generously  coinmeaded  for  their  skill  and 
bravery. 

Hapgood  aud  Tom  requested  permission  to  go  to 
the  hospital  and  see  their  companion.  They  found  that 
the  surgeon  had  already  dressed  his  wound. 

'*  Will  he  die?  "  asked  Tom,  full  of  solicitude  for  his 
friend. 

"  Die  !  no  ;  it's  a  mere  scratch.  The  ball  ploughed 
into  his  cheek  a  little  way,"  replied  the  surgeon.  "  It 
isn't  a  bad  w^ound.     He  was  more   scared  than  hurt." 

"  I  am  glad  it  is  no  worse,"  said  Captain  Benson, 
who,  with  fatherly  solicitude  for  his  men,  had  come  to 
the  hospital  as  soon  as  the  company  was  dismissed. 
*'But  what  ails  you,  Tom?    You  look  pale." 

"  Nothing,  captain." 

"  Are  you  sure?" 

"  I  don't  think  I  am  badly  hurt.  I  believe  one  of 
those  pistol  balls  grazed  my  side  ;  but  I  hardly  felt  it." 

"  Let  me   see,"    said  the   surgeon. 

The  doctor  opened  Tom's  coat,  and  his  gray  shirt 
was  found  to  be   saturated  with  blood. 

*'  That's  a  worse  wound  than  Pemberton's.  Didn't 
you  know  it,  Tom?" 

*'  Well,  of  course  I  knew  it  ;  but  I  didn't  think  it 
was  any  thing,"  replied  Tom,  apologetically.  "  I  knew 
it  wouldn't  do  to  drop  down,  or  we  should  all  be  in 
Dixie  in  half  an  hour." 


254  '^^^'    SOLDIER    BOT,    OR 

"  You  are  my  man  for  the  present,"  said  the  doctoi, 
as  he  proceeded  to  a  further  examination  of  the  wound. 

Tom  was  hit  in  the  side  by  one  of  tlie  pistol  bullets. 
As  I  have  not  the  surgeon's  report  of  the  case,  I  cannot 
give  a  minute  description  of  it  ;  but  he  comforted  Ilap- 
good  and  the  captain  with  the  assurance  that,  though 
severe,   it   was  not  a  dangerous  wound. 

"  Tom  Somers,  there's  a  sergeant's  Avarrant  in  Com- 
pany K  for  one  of  you  three  men,"  said  Captain  Ben- 
son, when  the  patient  was  comfortably  settled  upon  his 
camp  bed.  "  The  colonel  told  me  to  give  him  the  name 
of  the  most  deserving  man  in  my  company." 

"  Give  it  to  Tom,"  said  Hapgood,  promptly.  "  He 
led  off  in  this  matter,  and  eft  hadn't  been  for  him,  we 
should  all  have  been  on  t'other  side  of  the  river,  and 
p'raps  on  t'other  side  of  Jordan,  afore  this  time.  And 
then,  to  think  that  the  poor  fellow  stood  by,  and  handled 
the  boat  like  a  commodore,  Avhcn  the  life-blood  was 
runnin'  out  of  him  all  the  time  !     It  belongs  to  Tom." 

"  Give  it  to  Tom,"  added  Fred,  who  lay  near  the 
patient. 

"  No,  Captain  Benson,"  interposed  Tom,  faintly. 
"  Hapgood  is  an  old  soldier,  and  deserves  it  more  than 
I  do.  Give  it  to  him,  and  I  shall  be  better  satisfied 
than  if  you  give  it  to   me." 

"  Tom  Somers  !  "  exclaimed  old  Hapgood.  a  flood  of 
tsars  sliding  dowii  his  furrowed  cheeks,  "  I  won't  stand 


TOM  SOMERS   IN    THW    ARMY.  255 

nothin'  of  the  sort !     I'd  jump  into  t/»e  river  and  drovmd 
myself  before  I'd  take  it,  after  wluit  you've  done." 

''  You  are  both  worthy  of  it,"  added  Captain  Benson. 

"  Please  give  it  to  Ilapgood,"  pleaded  Tom.  "  He 
first  proposed  going  out  after  the  little  schooner." 

"  Give  it  to  Tom,  eap'm.  It'll  help  heal  his  wound," 
said  Hapgood. 

"  No  ;  it  would  do  me  more  good  to  have  you  receive 
it,"  protested  Tom. 

"  Well,  here,  I  can't  have  this  battle  fought  in  the 
hospital,"  interposed  the  surgeon.  *'  They  are  good 
friends,  captain,  and  whichever  one  you  give  it  to,  the 
other  will  be  suited.  You  had  better  settle  the  case  at 
head-quarters." 

■"  If  you  please,  Captain  Benson,  I  would  like  to  have 
Hapgood  stay  with  me  to-night,  if  he  can  be  spared." 

The  veteran  was  promptly  detailed  for  hospital  duty, 
and  the  captain  returned  to  his  quarters  to  decide  the 
momentous  question  in  regard  to  the  sergeant's  war^^awt- 

Theo.  Haljht,  Jr.,  1^970  Boulevard,  Astoria,  L  I. 


256  '^^^    aOLDlER    BOY,    Oa 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 


TOM    IS    SENTIMENTAL. 


/^^HE  little  schooner  which  the  picket  guard  had 
ll  captured  was  loaded  with  valuable  supplies  for 
V._i/  the  rebels,  wliich  of  course  were  confiscated 
without  ceremony.  The  mail  bag  which  was  on  board 
contained  a  great  many  letters  from  traitors  in  Balti- 
more, some  of  whom  were  exposed  by  the  capture  of 
their  treasonable   correspondence. 

Tom's  wound  proved  to  be  more  serious  than  even  the 
surgeon  had  anticipated  ;  but  the  best  care  Avhich  it  was 
possible  to  give  in  a  military  hospital  was  bestowed  upon 
him.  Old  Hapgood,  in  recognition  of  his  services  on 
that  eventful  night,  was  permitted  to  be  near  the  patient 
as  much  as  the  interests  of  the  service  would  permit ; 
and  the  old  man  was  happy  when  seated  by  the  rude 
couch  of  the  soldier  boy,  ministering  to  his  necessities, 
or  cheering  him  with  bright  hopes  of  the  future.  A 
strong  friendship  had  grown  up  between  them,  for  Tom's 
kind  heart  and  brave  conduct  produced  a  deep  impres- 
sion upon  the  old  man. 


TOAr  SOMERS    IX    THE   ARMY.  257 

"  Here,  Tom,"  said  Captaiu  Benson,  as  he  approached 
the  sufferer,  a  few  days  after  he  entered  the  hospital, 
and  laid  a  paper  upon  the  bed.  "  Here's  a  prescription 
vvhich  the  colonel  says  you  must  take." 

"  What  is  it?"  asked  Tom,  with  a  faint  smile. 

"  A  sergeant's  warrant." 

"  Glory,  glory,  hallelujah,  as  we  go  marching  on !  " 
exclaimed  old  Hapgood,  jumping  up  like  a  youth  of  six- 
teen, and  swinging  his  cap  above  his  head. 

"  Shut  up,  there !  "  shouted  the  hospital  steward. 
"Don't  you  know  any  better  than  to  make  such  a 
racket  in  this  place  ?  " 

"  I  beg  pardon,  Jameson.  I  forgot  where  I  was," 
apologized  the  veteran.  "The  news  was  so  good  I 
couldn't  help  it.     Our  Tom  is  a  sergeant  now !  " 

"Not  yet,  Hapgood,"  replied  Tom,  feebly.  "I 
can't  accept  it.  Captain  Benson  ;  it  belongs  to  Hapgood, 
sir,  and  I  shall  feel  a  great  deal  better  if  you  put  his 
name  in  place  of  mine." 

"Don't  do  it,  cap'n ! "  interposed  the  old  man, 
vehemently.  "  Tom  shall  be  a  brigadier  general  if 
the  war  lasts  one  year  more.  I  should  feel  like  a 
whipped  kitten  if  that  warrant  Avas  altered." 

"  The    matter    has    been    fully  and  fairly  considered 
at  head-quarters,  and  there  is  no   such   thing  as  alter- 
ing the  decision  now ;  so.,  Tom,  you  can  put  the  stripei 
on  your  arm  just  as   soon  as  you  please." 
22* 


258  ^-^^   SOLDIER   BOY,    OR 

Hapgood  insisted,  the  surgeon  insisted,  and  the  cap- 
tain insisted ;  and  Tom  was  too  sick  to  hold  way 
with  them  in  an  argument,  and  his  name  was  placed 
upon  the  roster  of  the  company  as  a  sergeant.  He  was 
proud  of  the  distinction  which  had  been  conferred 
upon  him,  though  he  thought  Hapgood,  as  an  oldei 
and  abler  soldier,  was  better  entitled  to  the  hono) 
than  himself. 

It  was  six  weeks  before  Tom  ^«as  able  to  enter 
upon  the  actual  enjoyment  of  the  w^ell-merited  prO' 
motion  which  he  had  won  by  his  gallantry ;  but 
when  he  appeared  before  the  company  with  tlie 
chevi'on  of  the  sergeant  upon  his  arm,  he  was  lustily 
cheered  by  his  comrades,  and  it  was  evident  that  the 
appointment  w\as  a  very  popular  one.  Xot  even  the 
grumblers,  of  Avhom  there  is  a  full  quota  in  every 
regiment,  deemed  it  prudent  to  growl  at  the  decision 
of  the  officers.  If  any  one  ventured  to  suggest  that 
he  was  too  young  to  be  placed  over  older  and  stronger 
men,  his  friends  replied,  that  men  in  the  army  were 
measured  by  bravery  and  skill,  not  by  years. 
.  If  my  young  readers  wish  to  know  why  Tom's  ap- 
pointment was  so  well  received  by  his  companions  in 
arms,  I  can  only  f^ply,  that  he  had  not  only  been 
brave  and  cheerful  in  the  midst  of  peril  and  hardsliip, 
but  he  was  kind  and  obliging  tp  his  comrades.  He 
had    always    been  willing    to    help    those    that    needed 


TOM   SO  ME  US    IN    THE   ARMY.  25? 

help,  to  sympathize  with  those  in  trouble,  and  gener- 
ally to  do  all  he  could  to  render  those  around  him 
happy. 

Above  all  these  considerations,  Tom  was  a  young 
man  of  high  principle.  He  had  obeyed  his  mother's 
parting  injunction,  often  repeated  in  the  letters  which 
came  to  him  from  home,  and  had  faithfully  "read  his 
Testament."  Without  being  a  hypocrite  or  a  canting 
saint,  Tom  carried  about  with  him  the  true  elements 
of  Christian  character. 

Tom  had  fought  a  greater  battle  than  that  in  which 
lie  had  been  engaged  at  Bull  Run  a  hundred  times, 
in  resisting  the  temptations  which  beset  him  from 
within  and  without.  True  to  God  and  true  to  him- 
self, he  had  won  the  victory.  Though  his  lot  was 
cast  in  the  midst  of  men  Avho  swore,  gambled,  and 
drank  liquor,  he  had  shimned  these  vices,  and  loved 
the  sinner  while  he  hated  the  sin.  Such  a  person  could 
not  fail  to  Avin  the  respect  of  his  companions.  Though 
he  had  been  jeered  at  and  insulted  for  being  sober, 
honest,  and  pious,  he  had  fought  down  and  lived  down 
all  these  vilifiers,  and  won  their  esteem. 

It  must  be  acknowledged  that  Tom's  piety  was  ot 
the  robust  type.  He  would  not  allow  any  man  to  in- 
sult him  ;  and  after  the  chastisement  he  had  given  Bep 
Lethbridge,  not  even  those  who  Avcre  strong  enough  to 
whip  him  were  disposed  to  trespass  upon  his  rights  and 


260 


THE    SOLDIEn    BOY,   OR 


dignity.  Perhaps  Tom's  creed  needed  a  little  revising; 
but  he  lived  under  martial  law,  which  does  not  take 
cognizance  of  insults  and  revilings.  He  was  willing  to 
be  smitten  on  the  one  check,  and  on  the  other  also,  for 
the  good  of  his  country,  or  even  his  friends,  but  not  to 
be  wantonly  insulted. 

The  influence*  of  Tom's  principles  was  not  confined 
to  himself,  for  '•  a  little  leaven  leaveneth  the  whole 
lump."  This  was  particularly  true  of  Hapgood,  who, 
more  through  Tom's  preaching  and  practice  than  from 
any  strength  in  his  own  character,  had  steadily  main- 
tained his  purpose  to  abstain  from  intoxicating  drinks, 
though  occ^ional  opportunities  were  presented  for  the 
indulgence  of  his  darling  vice.  Tom  and  he  read  the 
Testament  and  other  good  books  which  were  ^ent  to 
the  regiment,  and  both  profited  by  them. 

When  the  soldier  boy  was  discharged  from  the  hos- 
pital, the  surgeon  gave  him  a  pair  of  woollen  socks,  from 
a  case  of  them  which  had  been  sent  by  the  friends  of 
the  soldier  in  Boston  and  its  vicinity.  He  was  very 
much  in  need  of  them,  and  from  the  depths  of  his  heart 
he  blessed  the  ladies  who  had  done  this  good  work.  He 
unrolled  the  socks,  and  proceeded  to  pull  one  of  them 
on.  It  was  as  good  a  fit  as  though  his  mother  had  knit 
it  on  purpose  for  him. 

*'  God  bless  the  lady  that  knit  these  socks ! "  ex- 
claimed Tom,  as  he  began  to  draw  on  the  other. 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    TUE   ARMY.  261 

**  Amen  !  "  replied  Hapgoocl,  who  was  watching  the 
operation  in  full  sympathy  with  his  protege. 

"  Eh !  what's  this  ? "  added  Tom,  for  his  foot  had 
met  with    an    obstruction  in  its  passage  down  the  ieg. 

He  pulled  off  the  sock,  and  thrusting  his  hand  into  it, 
took  therefrom   a  letter  enclosed  in  an  envelope. 

"See  that,  uncle?"    said  he,  exhibiting  the  prize. 

*'  What  is  it,  Tom?    Open  it  quick,"  replied  Hapgood. 

The  soldier  boy  broke  the  envelope,  and  took  from 
it  a  note  enclosing  a  photograph.  Tom  looked  at  the 
picture  with  a  feeling  of  pleasure,  which  would  have 
caused  the  original  of  the  miniature,  the  author  of  the 
note,  and  the  author  of  the  socks,  to  blush  up  to  her 
eyes  if  she  had  beheld  the  expression  of  admiration 
which  glowed  upon  the  handsome,  manly  face  of  the 
young  sergeant. 

''  By  all  that's  lovely,  isn't  she  a  beauty  !  "  exclaimed 
Tom,  rapturously,  as  he  glanced  from  the  picture  to 
Hapgood,  who  was  looking  over  his  shoulder. 

'*  She's  hahnsome,  and  no  mistake,"  replied  the  vet- 
eran, with  a  grim  smile. 

"  Well,  she  is ! "  added  Tom,  whose  eyes  were 
riveted  to  the  photograph. 

"Well,  why  don't  you  read  the  letter,  Tom?"  de- 
manded the  old  soldier,  after  the  young  man  had 
gazed  with  blushing  cheek  upon  the  sweet  face  o^ 
the  author  of  his  socks  for  full  five  minutes. 


262  ^^^'    SOLDIER    BOYs    OR 

"  I  guess  I  will,"  said  Tom  ;  but  he  did  not ;  for  th© 
picture  seemed  to  be  glory  and  beauty  enough  to  satisfy 
him  for  the  present. 

"  Read  the  letter,  Tom  !  "  shouted  the  veteran,  after 
he  had  waited  as  long  as  the  nature  of  the  case  seemed 
to  require. 

The  soldier  boy  carefully  placed  the  photograph  in  the 
envelope,  and  unfolded  the  letter.  It  was  written  in  a 
beautiful  hand,  which  looked  as  soft  and  delicate  as  the 
fair  fingers  which  had  penned  the  lines.  He  glanced  at 
it  as  a  Avhole,  admired  the  penmanship,  and  the  fairy- 
like symmetry  that  make  up  the  tout-ensemhle  of  the 
j)age,  and  w^as  about  to  dissolve  into  another  rhapsody, 
when  Hapgood,  Avho  was  not  half  so  sentimental  as 
the  sergeant,  became  impatient  to  know  the  contents  of 
the  missive.  Tom  read  it  aloud  to  the  stoical  veteran  ; 
and  though  Ave  cannot  clothe  its  SAveet  Avords  in  the  fairy 
chirography  Avhich  transported  our  hero,  and  made  the 
letter  a  dream  of  bliss  to  him,  Ave  shall  A'enture  to  pre- 
sent it  to  our  curious  readers,  stiffened  and  hardened 
into  the  dull,  cold  forms  of  the  printer's  art. 

No.  — ,  Rutland  Street,  Boston,  Nov.  5,  1861. 
My  Dear  Soldier  :  — 

This  is  the  first  pair  of  socks  I  ever  knit ;  and  I  send 
them  to  you  AAdth  my  blessing  upon  the  brave  defenders 
of  my  country.     I  hope  thej    fill  keep  your  feet  warm. 


TOM   SO  ME  US   i:^    THE   ARMY.  263 

and  thus  keep  your  heart  warm  towards  God  and  our 
blessed  land. 

Grandma  says  I  am  a  silly  girl,  and  I  suppose  I 
am  ;  but  if  you  feel  half  as  much  interest  in  me  as  I 
do  in  the  person  who  will  wear  the  first  pair  of  socks 
I  ever  knit,  you  will  wish  to  know  how  I  look ;  therefore 
I  send  you  my  photograph. 

I  very  much  desire  to  know  whether  my  work  has 
done  any  good ;  whether  my  socks  are  ever  worn  in 
a  battle  ;  and  most  of  all,  I  desire  to  know  how  the  noble 
fellow  looks  that  wears  them.  Therefore  I  beg  you  to 
answer  my  letter,  and  also  to  send  me  your  photograph, 
if  you  can  conveniently. 

Now,  my  dear  soldier,  be  brave  and  true,  and, 
above  all,  do  not  Pin  away  from  the  rebels  with  my 
socks  on  your  feet.  You  may  retreat  when  your  officers 
order  you  to  retire  ;  but  if  you  are  a  coward,  and  find 
yourself  compelled  to  run  away,  please  pull  them  off 
before  you  do  so,  for  I  should  die  with  mortification 
if  I  thought  I  had  knit  a  pair  of  socks  for  a  Union  sol- 
4ier  to  run  away  in. 

Truly  yours,  for  our  flag  and  our  country. 

Lilian  Ashford. 

*'Well,  if  that  gal  ain't  a  trump,  then  there  ain't 
no  snakes  in  Virginny  !  "  exclaimed  Hapgood.  "  She'f 
got  the  true  grit,  and  no  mistake," 


264  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

"That's  so,"  replied  the  recipient  of  the  gift,  thought- 
fully, as  he  bent  down,  and  began  to  pull  off  the  sock 
which  encased  his  left  foot. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  demanded  Hapgood,  sur- 
prised at  this  new  movement  of  his  companion. 

"  I  can't  wear  these  socks  yet,  uncle,"   replied  he. 

"Why  not?" 

"  Don't  she  say  she  wants  them  worn  in  a  battle  ? " 

"  Tom,  you  are  a  little  fool ! "  added  the  veteran, 
petulantly.  "  Are  you  going  with  cold  feet  just  to  please 
a  silly  gal,  whose  head  is  as  full  of  moonshine  as  an 
e^^  is  of  meat.  Put  on  the  socks,  and  keep  your  feet 
warm.  If  you  don't,  I'll  WTite  to  her,  and  tell  what 
a  fool  you  are." 

Tom  did  put  them  on,  but  he  could  not  help  feeling 
that  uncle  Hapgood,  as  he  was  familiarly  called  in  the 
camp,  did  not  understand  and  appreciate  his  sentiments. 
The  socks  seemed  to  be  too  precious  to  be  worn  in  the 
vulgar  mud  of  Maryland.  To  him  there  was  something 
ethereal  about  them,  and  it  looked  a  little  like  profana- 
tion to  put  any  thing  emanating  from  the  fairy  fingers 
of  the  original  of  that  photograph,  and  the  author  of 
that  letter,  upon  his  feet. 

"  Now  you  act  like  a  sensible  fellow,  as  you  are, 
Tom,"  said  Hapgood,  as  the  sergeant  put  on  his  army 
brogans. 

"Well,  uncle,  one  thing  is  certain:  I  never  will  run 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE   ARMY.  26o 

away   from    the    rebels    with    these    socks    on,"    added 
Tom,  with  a  rich  glow  of  enthusiasm. 

"  If  Gen'l  McClennon  don't  stir  his  stumps  pretty 
soon,  you'll  wear  'em  out  afore  you  git  a  chance  to 
run  away." 

Tom,  almost  for  the  first  time  since  he  had  been  in 
the  army,  wanted  to  be  alone.  With  those  socks  on, 
it  seemed  just  as  though  he  was  walking  the  streets 
of  the  New  Jerusalem,  with  heaven  and  stacks  of 
silver-fringed  and  golden-tinged  clouds  beneath  his 
feet,  buried  up  to  the  eyes  in  floods  of  liquid  moon- 
shine. 

If  "  grandma  "  really  thought  that  Lilian  Ashford 
was  a  silly  girl,  and  if  Lilian  really  supposed  so  her- 
self, it  must  be  added,  in  justification  of  her  conduct, 
that  she  had  given  the  soldier  boy  a  new  incentive  to 
do  his  duty  nobly,  and  kindled  in  his  soul  a  holy  aspira- 
tion to  serve  God  and  his  country  with  renewed  zeal 
and  fidelity. 

23 


2QQ  THE    SOLDIER    liOl'.  On 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

THE    CONFEDERATE    DESERTER. 

C^iwl  \  HILE  Tom  was  in  the  hospital,  he  re^ 
ceived  a  letter  from  his  sister,  informing 
him  that  his  brother  John  had  actually 
entered  the  navy,  and  with  his  mother's  consent.  The 
news  from  home  was  so  favorable,  that  the  soldier  boy 
was  pleased  to  hear  that  Jack  had  realized  his  darling 
wish,  and  that  he  was  now  in  his  element. 

Intelligence  from  home,  accompanied  with  letters, 
papers,  books,  comforts,  and  luxuries  of  various  kinds, 
reached  him  every  two  or  three  weeks  ;  and  when  the 
news  went  back  that  Tom  had  been  made  a  sergeant 
for  gallant  conduct,  there  was  a  great  sensation  in 
Pinchbrook.  The  letters  which  reached  him  after  the 
receipt  of  this  gratifying  announcement  contained  all 
the  gossip  of  the  place  in  regard  to  the  important  event. 
Of  course,  Tom  was  delighted  by  these  letters,  and  was 
more  than  ever  determined  to  be  diligent  and  faithful 
in  the  discharge  of  his  duties,  and  never  to  disgrace 
the    name    he    bore.       He    was    confident    his   friends 


TOM  SOMERS    IN    THE    ARMY.  267 

♦vould  never  liave  occasion  to  blush  for  his  conduct 

iucUiding    the    original  of  the    photograph,  the    authoi 
of  the  letter  and  of  the  socks. 

Tom  recovered  from  the  effects  of  his  wound,  as  we  have 
before  intimated,  and  took  his  place  in  the  regimental  line 
as  a  sergeant.  January  and  February  passed  away  with- 
out any  very  stirring  events  ;  but  in  the  month  of  March 
came  indications  of  activity.  The  rebels  began  to  draw 
in  their  lines,  by  abandoning  various  points,  till  the 
nation  was  startled  bv  the  evacuation  of  their  strono-lv 
fortified  position  at  Manassas,  and  the  forts  in  front  of 
Budd's  Ferry  were  suddenly  left  for  the  occupation  of 
the  Federal  troops. 

Hooker's  men  crossed  the  Potomac,  and  Tom  was  once 
more  on  the  sacred  soil  of  Virginia.  Skirmishers  were 
sent  out  in  various  directions,  and  though  a  deserted 
camp,  which  had  been  hastily  abandoned,  was  found, 
there  were  no  rebels  to  be  seen.  The  Union  boys  were 
not  disposed  to  leave  their  investigations  at  diis  interest- 
ing point,  and  they  pursued  their  way  still  farther  into 
the  country.  Somehow  or  other,  Tom  and  his  party 
did  not  receive  the  order  to  return,  and  the  enterprising 
yoimg  hero  continued  his  march  in  search  of  further  ad- 
ventures. It  was  ahogether  too  tame  for  him  and  the 
congenial  spirits  in  his  section  to  retire  without  seeing 
a  live  rebel  or  two  ;  and  I  am  not  sure,  if  their  desire 
had  not  been  gratified,  that  they  would  not  have  pene- 


268  THE   SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

trated  to  Fredericksburg,  and  captured  that  citadel  of 
rebellion  in  advance  of  General  Augur,  who  visited  the 
place  in  April. 

As  it  was,  they  stumbled  upon  the  pickets  of  a  rebel 
force,  and  as  soon  as  their  uniform  was  identified  they 
had  the  honor  of  being  fired  upon,  though  none  of  them 
had  the  honor  of  being  killed  in  the  midst  of  their 
virtual  disobedience  of  orders.  But  their  appearance 
created  a  panic  among  the  Confederates,  who  had  no 
means  of  knowing  that  they  were  not  the  pioneers  of  a 
whole  division  of  Union  troops,  for  General  McClellan 
had  removed  the  spell  which  bound  the  loyal  army  to  its 
camps,  and  corps,  divisions,  and  brigades  were  pushing 
forward  into  the  dominion  of  the  traitors. 

The  alarm  was  given,  and  Tom  saw  that  he  was  rush- 
ing into  a  bad  scrape  ;  and  as  prudence  is  as  much  a 
requisite  of  the  good  soldier  as  bravery,  he  ordered  his 
men  to  fall  back.  Rebels  are  very  much  like  ill-natured 
curs,  ever  ready  to  pursue  a  retreating  foe,  or  run  away 
from  an  advancing  one.  The  Confederates  chased  them, 
and  as  the  legs  of  the  former  seemed  to  be  in  remarkably 
good  condition,  the  sergeant  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
it  would  not  be  safe  to  run  too  fast. 

"  Halt !  "  shouted  he  ;  and  the  men  promptly  obeyed 
the  order. 

They  discharged  their  muskets,  and  then  made  a 
demonstration  towards  the  enemy,  who,  obeying  their 


TOM  SO  ME  US   JX    THE    ARMY.  ^^9 

instinct,  ran  away  as  fast  as  their  legs  would  carry 
tliera.  Taking  advantage  of  this  movement  on  their 
part,  Tom  again  ordered  a  retreat. 

'^  They  are  after  us  again,"  said  Hapgood.  "  I  hope 
there  ain't  no  cavalry  ^vithin  hearing.  If  there  is,  we 
may  take  a  journey  to  Richmond." 

•"  They  have  stopped  to  load  their  guns,"  replied 
Tom.     "  We  will  use  our  legs  now." 

"  See  that,  Tom ! "    said  Hapgood,   suddenly. 

"What?" 

"There's  one  of  them  rushing  towards  us  all  alone." 

"  He  has  thrown  up  his  gun.  The  others  are  yelling 
to  him  to  come  back.     What  does  that  mean  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  deserter  ;  he  wants  to  get  away  from  them. 
There  he  comes." 

"  Yes,  and  there  comes  the  rest  of  them  —  the  whole 
rebel  army  —  more  than  a  million  of  them,"  said  Fred 
Pemberton.     "  It's  time  for  us  to  be  going." 

"  See  !  They  are  firing  at  him.  Forward  !  "  added 
Tom,  leading  the  way. 

The  party  rushed  forward,  for  a  short  distance ;  but 
the  dozen  rebels  had  been  reenforced,  and  it  was  mad- 
ness to  rush  into  the  very  teeth  of  danger.  Tom  ordered 
his  men  to  halt  and  fire  at  will.  The  deserter,  probably 
finding  that  he  was  between  two  fires,  turned  aside  from 
the  direct  course  he  was  pursuing,  and  sought  shelter 
in  the  woods.  The  sergeant  then  directed  his  men  to 
23* 


270  TJIE    SOLDI  Eli    BOY,    OR 

retire,  for  whether  the  retreat  of  the  ruuaway  rebel  was 
covered  or  not,  it  was  no  longer  safe  to  remain. 

Fortunately  the  Confederates  were  more  in  doubt  than 
the  Unionists ;  and  perhaps  expecting  to  fall  upon  a 
larger  body  of  the  latter,  they  a^  andoned  the  pursuit, 
and  returned  to  their  posts.  Nothing  w^as  seen  of  the 
deserter  for  some  time,  and  Tom  concluded  that  lie  had 
lost  his  way  in  the  woods,  or  had  missed  the  direction 
taken  by  the  Federal  scouts. 

"  He  was  a  plucky  fellow,  any  how,"  said  one  of  the 
men,  "  to  attempt  to  run  away  in  the  very  face  of  his 
companions." 

"  Well,  he  timed  it  well,  for  he  started  just  when  their 
guns  were  all  empty,"  added  another. 

"  I'm  not  sorry  he  missed  us,"  continued  Hapgood. 
"  I  don't  like  a  desarter,  no  how.  It  iroes  riorht  a<?in 
my  grain." 

''  But  he  was  running  from  the  wrong  to  the  right 
side,"  replied  Tom. 

"  I  don't  keer  if  he  was.  Them  colors  on  t'other  side 
were  his'n.  He  chose  'em  for  himself,  and  it's  mean  to 
run  aw^ay  from  'em.  If  a  man's  go'n  to  be  a  rebel,  lei 
him  be  one,  and  stick  to  it." 

"  You  don't  know  any  thing  about  it,  uncle.  Thou- 
sands of  men  have  been  forced  into  the  rebel  army,  and 
I  don't  blame  them  for  getting  out  of  it  the  best  way 
they  can.     I  should  do  so." 


TOM   SO  ME  lis    IN    THE    ARMY 


271 


''  That  may  be,  Tom  ;  that  may  be,"  added  the  vet' 
eran,  taking  off  his  cap  and  rubbing  his  bald  head,  as 
though  a  new  idea  had  penetrated  it.  ''I  didn't  think 
of  that." 

*'  He's  a  brave  man,  whoever  he  is,  and  whatever 
he  is." 

"  He  must  want  to  get  away  from  'em  pretty  bad,  or 
he  wouldn't  have  run  that  risk.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
they  hit  him." 

"  Perhaps  he  is  wounded,  and  gone  into  the  woods 
there   to   die,"   suggested  Tom. 

"  Halloo  !  "    shouted  some  one  in  the  rear  of  them. 

"  There's  your  man,"    said  Hapgood. 

"  Halloo  !  "  cried  the  same  voice. 

"  Halloo,  yourself  !  "  shouted  Hapgood  in  reply  tc 
the  hail. 

The  party  halted,  and  after  waiting  a  few  moments^ 
the  rebel  deserter  came  in  sight.  He  was  apparently  a 
man  of  fifty  ;  and  no  mendicant  of  St.  Giles,  who  followed 
begging  as  a  profession,  could  have  given  himself  a  more 
wretched  and  squalid  appearance,  if  he  had  devoted  a 
lifetime  to  the  study  of  making  himself  look  miserable. 
He  wore  a  long  black  and  gray  beard,  uncut  and  un- 
kempt, and  snarled,  tangled,  and  knotted  into  the  most 
fantastic  forms.  His  gray  uniform,  plentifully  bedaubed 
witli  Virginia  mud,  was  torn  in  a  hundred  places,  and 
hung  in  tatters  upon  his  emaciated  frame.     On  his  head 


272  THE    SOLDIER    B  O  T,    OR 

was  an  old  felt  hat,  in  a  terribly  dilapidated  condition. 
He  wore  one  boot  and  one  shoe,  which  he  had  probably 
taken  from  the  common  sewer  of  Richmond,  or  some  other 
southern  city  ;  they  were  ripped  to  such  an  extent  that 
the  "uppers"  went  flipperty-flap  as  he  walked,  and  had 
the  general  appearance  of  the  open  mouth  of  the  mythic 
dragon,  with  live  bare  toes  in  each  to  represent  teeth. 

As  he  approached,  the  unthinking  soldiers  of  the 
party  indulged  in  screams  of  laughter  at  the  uncouth 
appearance  of  the  wliilom  rebel ;  and  certainly  the 
character  in  tableau  or  farce  need  not  have  spoken, 
to  convulse  any  audience  that  ever  assembled  in 
Christendom.  Rip  Van  Winkle,  with  the  devastations 
and  dilapidations  of  five-and-twenty  years  hanging  about 
him,  did  not  present  a  more  forlorn  appearance  than 
did  this  representative  of  the  Confederate  army. 

"What  are  you  laughing  at?"  demanded  the  de- 
serter, not  at  all  delighted  with  this  reception. 

"  I  say,  old  fellow,  how  long  since  you  escaped 
from  the  rag-bag?"   jeered  one  of  the  men. 

"What's  the  price  of  boots  in  Richmond  now?** 
asked  another. 

■*' Who's  your  barber?" 

"  Silence,  men ! "  interposed  Tom,  sternly,  for  he 
could  not  permit  his  boys  to  make  fun  of  the  wretched- 
ness of  any  human  being. 

"We'll    sell   you    out    for    paper    stock,"    said   Ben 


TOM  SOMERS    IN    THE   ARMY.  273 

Lethbridge,  Avho  had  just  returned  from  three  months' 
service  in  the  Rip-Raps  for  desertion. 

"  Shut  up,    Ben  !  "    added  Tom. 

"  Dry  up,  all  of  you ! "    said  Corporal  Snyder. 

"Who  and  Avhat  are  you?"  asked  Tom,  of  the 
deserter. 

"  I'm  a  Union  man  !  "  replied  the  stranger  with 
emphasis  ;  "  and  I  didn't  expect  to  be  treated  in  this 
way  after  all  I've  suffered." 

"  They  thought  you  were  a  rebel.  You  wear  the 
colors  of  the  rebel  army,"  answered  the  sergeant, 
willing  to  explain  the  rudeness  of  his  men. 

"•  AVell,  I  suppose  I  do  look  rather  the  worse  for 
the  wear,"  added  the  grayback,  glancing  down  at  the 
tattered  uniform  he  wore.  "  I  joined  the  rebel  army, 
after  I  had  tried  every  way  in  the  world  to  get  out 
of  this  infernal  country  ;  but  I  never  fired  a  gun  at  a 
Union  man.  Seems  to  me,  sergeant,  I've  seen  you 
before  somewhere.  What's  your  name?  Where  did 
you  come  from  ?  " 

"  Pinchbrook,  Massachusetts  ;•  and  most  of  us  hail 
from  the  same  place." 

"  Creation  !  "    exclaimed  the  deserter.      "  You   don't 


say  so  ! 


f  " 


"  Your  voice  sounds  familiar  to  me,"  added  Tom  ; 
and  for  some  reason  his  chest  was  heaving  violently 
beneath  his  suddenly  accelerated  respiration. 


274  ^-^-^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

As  he  spoke,  he  walked  towards  the  dilapidated 
rebel,  who  had  not  ventured  to  come  within  twentjf 
feet  of  the  party. 

"  Did  you  say  Pinchbrook?"  demanded  the  stranger, 
who  began  to  display  a  great  deal  of  emotion. 

"  Pinchbrook,  sir,"  added  Tom ;  and  so  intensely 
was  he  excited,  that  the  words  were  gasped  from  his 
lips. 

"  What's  your  name  ?  " 

"  Thomas  Somers,"  replied  the  sergeant. 

"  Tom  !  "    screamed  the   deserter,   rushing  forward. 

"  Father  ! "  cried  Tom,  as  he  grasped  the  hand  of 
the  phantom  Confederate. 

The  soldiers  of  the  party  were  transfixed  with  as- 
tonishment at  this  unexpected  scene,  and  they  stood 
like  statues  gazing  at  the  meeting  of  father  and  son, 
till  the  final  development  of  their  relationship,  when 
the  muscles  of  their  faces  relaxed,  and  the  expression 
of  wonder  gave  place  to  joyous  sympathy. 

*'  Captain  Somers,  of  Pinchbrook ! "  shouted  old 
Hapgood  ;  and  the  men  joined  Avith  him  in  a  roar  of 
intense  satisfaction,  that  made  the  woods  ring. 


TOAi    SOMJ-JIIS   JX    THE   ARMY.  21b 


CHAPTER    XXYIII 


ON    THE    PENINSULA. 


/^^^HE  scene  between  Captain  Somers  and  his  sou 
/ 1  was  very  affecting  and  very  exciting ;  and  if 
\^_L^  the  sokliers  had  all  been  uncles  and  first 
cousins  of  the  parties,  they  could  not  have  manifested 
more  interest  on  the  joyous  occasion.  The  father 
wept,  and  the  son  wept ;  for  each,  amid  the  terrible 
experience  of  these  troublous  times,  had  hardly  ex- 
pected to  meet  the  other. 

For  several  minutes  they  held  each  other  by  the 
hand,  laughing  and  weeping  alternately,  and  neither 
being  able  to  express  the  intense  emotions  which  agitated 
him.  The  men  shouted  and  laughed  in  full  sympathy 
with  the  reunited  sire  and  son. 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you,  Tom,"  said  Captain  Somers, 
as  he  wiped  away  the  tears  that  were  sliding  down 
upon  his  grizzly  beard.  ''  I  haven't  cried  before  for 
thirty  years  \  I'm  ashamed  of  it,  Tom,  but  I  can't 
help  it." 

"  I  didn't  expect  to  find  you  here,  father,  and  clothed 


276  "^^^  SOLDIER  jsur,  ok 

in  the  rebel  uuiform  ;  but  I'm  glad  to  see  you  in  any 
uniform,"   replied  the  soldier  boy. 

"  So  you're  in  the  army,  Tom,"  continued  the  father, 
gazing  Avitli  satisfaction  at  the  neat  appearance  of  the 
sergeant. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I  enlisted  within  a  fortnight  after  we 
heard  that  the  traitors    had    bombarded  Fort  Sumter." 

"  I  see  you've  got  three  stripes  on  your  arm." 

"  Yes,  Cap'n  Somers,"  said  Hapgood  ;  "  Tom  was 
made  a  sergeant  for  gallant  conduct  on  the  river  in 
December  ;    and  he  deserved  his  promotion  too." 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you  with  that  uniform  on  your 
back,  Tom  ;  and  glad  to  hear  that  you  have  behaved 
well." 

"  I  was  in  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  father,  and  was 
taken  prisoner  ;  but  I  got  away." 

"  Well,  Tom,  we'll  hear  about  that  bimeby,"  said 
the  old  man,  stopping  and  looking  nervously  into  the 
face  of  his  son.  "  I  want  to  ask  a  great  many  ques- 
tions, Tom,  but  I  hardly  dare  to  do  it.  You  know  I 
haven't  heard  a  word  from  home  since  I  left,  and  it's 
almost  a  year  now." 

"You  needn't  be  afraid,  father;  the  folks  are  all 
well.  I  have  got  a  heap  of  letters  at  the  camp,  and 
you  shall  read  them  all  as  soon  as  we  get  there." 

"Is  your  mother  well,  Tom?" 

"First  rate." 


TOM  SOMERS   /.V   THE   ARMY.  277 

"And  Johu?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  he's  gone  into  the  navy.  He  was 
bound  to  be  in  the  fight  any  how." 

"John's  a  chip  of  the  old  block.  He  wanted  to 
snuiF  the  salt  water  afore  he  was  a  week  old.  John's 
a  good  sailor,  and  lie  ought  to  have  a  good  lay  wher- 
ever he  goes,"    added  the  father. 

Captain  Somers  and  Tom  sat  upon  the  ground 
for  half  an  hour,  until  the  fugitive  from  the  rebel 
army  w^as  in  some  degree  rested  after  the  hard  run 
he  had  had  through  the  woods.  The  soldiers  gath- 
ered around  them,  as  much  interested  as  though  they 
had  been  members  of  the  Somers  family.  Tom's 
father  had  a  multitude  of  questions  to  ask  about  Pinch-, 
brook  and  its  people,  all  of  which  were  answered  to  hia 
satisfaction. 

The  sergeant  thought  it  was  time  for  the  party  to 
move  on,  and  his  father  declared  that  he  was  able  to 
walk  any  distance  which  would  bring  him  nearer  to 
the  home  of  his  wife  and  children.  The  order  was 
given,  and  the  little  band  resumed  its  march. 

"How  have  you  been  all  this  time,  father?"  asked 
Tom,  as  he  w\alked  along  by  the  side  of  Captain 
Somers. 

"  I've  been  pretty  fairly  most  of  the  time.  I'm 
tough  and  hardy,  or  I  should  have  been  dead  afore 
this  time.  We've  been  half  starved  and  half  frozen 
24 


278 


THE    SOLDIER    BOY,   OR 


in  the  camp  ;  but  I  mauaged  to  live  througli  it,  hoping 
and  expecting  to  get  away  from  tliose  rascally  rebels." 

"Where  have  you  been  all  the  time?"  asked  Torn. 
"Have  you  been   in  the   rebel  army  long?" 

"About  four  months  ;  but  I  may  as  well  begin  at  the 
beginning,  and  tell  you  the  whole  story,"  added  the  cap- 
tain. "  I  got  to  Norfolk  all  right,  and  was  there  when 
the  news  came  up  that  the  rebels  had  taken  Sumter. 
Every  body  was  mad,  and  I  was  as  mad  as  the  rest  of 
them,  though  not  exactly  in  the  same  way.  I  let  on  a 
little  with  my  tongue,  and  came  pretty  near  being  tarred 
and  feathered,  and  I  think  I  should  have  been,  if  your 
uncle  Wyman  hadn't  interfered." 

"Did  he  settle  with  you,  father?" 

"  After  a  while  he  did.  He  had  some  fifteen  thousand 
dollars  in  New  York,  which  had  just  been  sent  over 
from  England,  and  as  he  was  secesh,  he  was  terribly 
afeard  the  Lincoln  government  would  confiscate  it ;  so 
he  settled  with  me,  and  gave  me  a  power  of  attorney  to 
draw  his  money,  pay  myself,  and  take  care  of  what 
was  over.  I've  got  the  papers  safe  in  my  waistbands 
now." 

"  Good  I  Glory,  hallelujah  !  "  shouted  Tom.  '•  TTe  can 
pay  off  old  Pemberton  now,  for  it  goes  against  my  grain 
to  owe  a  dollar  to  a  traitor.  But  if  uncle  ^\''yman  is  a 
rebel,  and  I  suppose  he  is,  I  hope  the  government  will 
confiscate  what's  over  after  you  have  paid  yourself." 


TO.U   SOMERS    IX    THE   ARMY.  279 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  AVe  will  see  about  that  bimeby. 
He  used  nie  luir,  and  I  don't  wish  him  any  harm  ;  bnt  I 
hate  his  principles.  Well,  just  then,  Tom,  when  I  had 
got  my  accounts  squared,  the  rascals  took  my  vessel,  and 
gunk  it  in  tlie  channel  to  keep  the  Union  fleet  out.  My 
pipe  v/as  out  then,  and  I  couldn't  do  any  thing  more.  I 
hung  round  the  city  of  Norfolk  till  I  saw  there  was  no 
diance  to  get  out  in  that  direction ;  and  then  I  left. 
I  was  up  near  Bull  Run  —  the  rebels  call.it  Manassas  — 
when  the  battle  was  fought  ;  but  our  folks  got  licked  so 
badly,  that  it  was  no  use  to   try  to  get  through  there. 

"  I  tried  half  a  dozen  times  to  crawl  through,  and 
had  nearly  starved  to  death  in  the  woods  ;  but  some 
rebel  cavalry  pickets  spied  me  out,  called  me  a  traitor, 
and  sent  me  back.  My  money  Avas  all  gone  by  this 
time,  and  I  went  over  to  Norfolk  again.  Your  uncle 
Wyman  told  me  I  had  better  keep  quiet  where  I  was, 
for  just  as  sure  as  liis  name  was  Somers,  the  North 
would  all  fall  to  pieces  in  less  than  six  months.  He 
expected  the  rebel  army  would  be  in  New  York  afore 
long,  and  I  should  be  a  great  deal  better  off  where  I 
was.  He  tried  to  get  a  pass  to  send  me  through  the 
rebel  lines,  but  he  couldn't  do  it. 

''  Things  went  on  in  this  way  till  your  uncle  Wyman 
went  to  Charleston  on  business,  and  I  haven't  seen  him 
from  that  day  to  this.  The  rebels  tried  to  make  me  go 
into  their  navy,  but  I  wouldn't  do  it,  of  course  ;    but 


280  "^^^  SOLD  I  En  jior,  or 

when  I  couldn't  do  any  other  way,  I  went  into  the  army, 
hoping  I  should  he  sent  to  the  front,  and  find  a  chanco 
to  get  away.  I've  been  watching  ever  since,  but  I  never 
happened  to  get  within  twenty  miles  of  the  Union  pickets 
before.  But  here  I  am,  and  I'm  perfectly  satisfied  with 
the  past,  though  I've  suffered  a  good  deal  in  one  way 
and  another." 

By  the  time  Captain  Somers  had  finished  his  narra- 
tive, the  party  arrived  at  the  camp.  Tom  was  repri- 
manded very  gently  for  detaching  himself  from  the  main 
body  of  the  regiment ;  but  when  he  reported  the  events 
of  his  excursion,  as  he  had  safely  returned  with  his  com- 
mand, nothing  more  was  said  about  his  adventure. 

At  the  camp  the  Union  refugee  was  provided  with 
comfortable  clothing ;  his  hair  and  beard  were  trimmed 
down  to  decent  proportions,  and  he  was  otherwise 
purged  of  the  barbarisms  of  the  rebel  camp.  But  even 
then  he  did  not  look  like  the  stout,  hearty,  healthy  Cap- 
tain Somers  who  sailed  from  Boston  in  the  Gazelle 
nearly  a  year  before.  He  was  haggard  and  emaciated 
from  anxiety  and  semi-starvation. 

Captain  Somers  was  warmly  welcomed  by  the  mem- 
bers of  Company  K,  who  came  from  Pinchbrook  ;  and 
when  his  physical  wants  had  been  satisfied,  he  was  sent 
to  General  Hooker,  to  communicate  to  him  such  intelli- 
gence as  he  possessed  in  regard  to  the  position  and  num- 
bers of  the  rebel  army.     He  remained  at  the  camp  but 


TOM  SOMERS   IX    THE   ARMY.  281 

two  days,  at  the  eud  of  -wliich  time  he  was  sent  to 
Washington,  and  from  there  hastened  to  his  home  ih 
Piuchbrook.  A  letter  from  Tom,  announcing  the  joyful 
intelligence  of  his  return,  had  preceded  him. 

In  ten  days  after  parting  with  his  father,  the  sergeant 
received  a  full  and  glowing  account  of  the  reception  of 
Captain  Somers,  who  became  quite  a  lion  in  Piuchbrook 
for  the  time  being.  He  received  his  money  as  he  passed 
through  New  York,  thouj^h  not  without  the  aid  of  a 
government  order  which  he  had  procured  in  Washington, 
and  only  the  amount  that  was  actually  due  to  him,  for 
uncle  Wyman's  funds  were  then  in  process  of  being 
confiscated. 

The  only  drawback  upon  his  ftxther's  happiness  was 
the  absence  of  John,  Avho  had  been  drafted  into  a  vessel 
bound  to  the  South.  He  had  not  seen  him  for  a  year, 
and  another  year  would  probably  elapse  before  he  could 
expect  to  realize  this  pleasure.  But  the  captain's  patriot^ 
ism  had  been  intensified  a  hundred  fold  by  his  bitter 
experience  in  Virginia  ;  and  while  his  twin  sons  Avere 
gallantly  serving  their  country  in  the  army  and  the  navy, 
he  was  Avilliug  to  sacrifice  the  yearnings  of  his  paternal 
heart,  and  he  hoped  and  prayed  that  they  might  do  their 
duty  faithiiilly. 

Tom's  regiment  remained  on  the  Potomac  but  a  short 
time  after  the  event  we  have  related.  Sharper  and 
•terner  experience  was  before  these  tried  soldiers,  and 
24* 


232  '^^^    SOLDJER    BOY,  OR 

the  first  indications  of  active  service  were  greeted  with 
joyous  enthusiasm.  Suddenly  the  camp  was  broken 
up,  and  the  order  to  march  given.  Tlie  men  wondered 
and  speculated  upon  their  destination,  and  though  the 
prophets  of  the  regiments  gave  them  certain  information 
in  regard  to  the  direction  they  were  to  take,  most  of 
them  were  incredulous.  One  declared  they  were  going 
to  Richmond  by  the  way  of  Fredericksburg ;  another, 
by  the  w^ay  of  Manassas  ;  and  a  third  was  positive,  from 
hints  he  had  seen  in  the  newspapers,  that  they  were 
going  down  the  valley  of  the  Shenandoah,  to  take  the 
capital  of  Rebeldom  on  the  flank  and  rear. 

While  the  prophets  and  wise  men  were  speculating, 
the  regiment  marched  on  ;  and  to  the  astonishment  of 
all,  and  to  the  utter  confusion  of  the  seers,  they  were 
embarked  in  a  transport  —  the  steamer  Napoleon  — 
bound  no  one  knew  where.  One  regiment  and  half  of 
another  belonging  to  the  brigade  were  huddled  on  board 
of  this  one  steamer.  Every  foot  of  standing  room  was 
occupied,  and,  of  course,  the  boys  were  not  very  com- 
fortably quartered ;  but,  as  Tom  expressed  it,  there 
vvas  music  ahead,  and  the  brave  hearts  on  board  were 
feady  to  stand  any  thing  if  they  could  only  get  a  fight  out 
of  the  rebels.  The  mortification  of  their  defeat  at  Bull 
Run  still  hung  heavily  on  their  spirits,  and  they  were 
panting  for  an  opportunity  to  retaliate  upon  the  foe,  and 
win  the  laurels  they  had  lost  upon  that  disastrous  field. 


TOM   SO  ME  lis    IX    THE    AliMY. 


283 


The  prophets,  though  their  failure  to  foretell  the 
coming  even:,  had  cast  them  into  disgrace,  were  still 
ready  to  volunteer  an  opinion.  They  declared  that  the 
transports  were  bound  to  North  Carolina,  to  follow  up 
Burnside's  successes  ;  but  most  of  the  men  were  content 
to  wait  till  tlie   future  should  develop  itself. 

The  troops  were  eager  for  active  duty,  and  if  they 
could  get  into  the  field  and  strike  a  heavy  blow  at  the 
rebellion,  they  did  not  care  where  it  was.  They  had 
unbounded  confidence  in  the  young  general  who  wa» 
to  organize  victory  for  tliem,  and  they  were  willing  tc 
obey  orders,  and  leave  every  thing  to  him. 

It  "  thundered  all  around "  them.  Roanoke,  Pea 
Ridge,  Newbern,  "Winchester,  Donelson,  were  a  suc- 
cession of  Union  victories,  which  inspired  them  with 
zeal  and  courage  to  endure  all  hardships,  and  face  any 
peril  which  might  be  in  their  path. 

The  transport  descended  the  Potomac,  and  came  to 
anchor  in  the  bay,  where  they  lay  one  day  ;  the  steamer 
then  continued  on  her  course,  and  landed  her  troops  in 
Cheseman's  Creek,  an  indentation  of  the  peninsula  be- 
tween the  York  and  James  Rivei's.  After  lying  in  camp 
a  few  days,  they  marched  again,  and  Tom  learned  that 
the  regiment  was  before  Yorktown,  which  had  been 
Btrongly  fortified  by  the  rebels  to  resist  the  advance  of 
the  Union  army. 


234  THE    SOLD  I  Ell    BOY,    OR 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

THE    BATTLE    OF    WILLIA3ISBURG. 

(^^|r^'%/  HAT  the  army  of  the  Potomac  a^-hv^ved 
and  suffered  before  Yorktown,  we  r.mst 
leave  for  the  historian.  Our  soldier  boy 
was  only  one  hero  among  thousands  who  toiled  ia  the 
soft  mud  of  the  early  spring,  who  watched  and  Avaited 
for  the  tremendous  events  which  have  now  passed  into 
history,  and  whose  actors  will  be  honored  and  remem- 
bered by  future  generations. 

Tom  Somers  bore  his  full  share  of  the  trials  and  hard- 
ships of  that  eventful  period ;  and  when  McClellan's 
scientific  engineering  had  driven  the  rebels  from  their 
strong  works  without  a  struggle  to  retain  them,  he 
moved  forward  with  the  gallant  army.  '-On  to  Rich- 
mond !  "  again  sounded  along  the  lines,  and  the  soldiers 
toiled  through  mud  and  mire,  hoping  and  expecting  to 
strike  the  final  blow  that  would  crush  out  the  rebellion. 

YorktOTATi  was  evacuated.  The  rebels  Avere  fleeing 
from  their  frowning  batteries,  and  the  order  came  for 
Hooker's  division  to  join  in  the  pursuit.     At  noon  the 


TOM   SOMEIiS    IN    THE    ARMY.  285 

brigade  —  now    under   command  of  General  Grover  — 
commeilced  its  forward  movement. 

'^Rather  rough,"  said  Hapgood,  as  the  regiment 
struggled  on  through  the  mire. 

'^Rather  soft,  I  think,"    replied  Tom,  laughing. 
'^  I  hope   we  haven't  got  to  march  far  through  this 
mud,"  added  Ben  Lethbridge. 

"  That  will  depend  upon  liow  soon  we  come  up 
with  the  rebels.  If  it  rests  with  Hooker,  I  tell  you 
he  will  get  a  fight  out  of  the  rebs,  if  such  a  thing  is 
possible." 

After  the  regiment  had  marched  five  or  six  miles,  the 
order  came  to  halt ;  and  the  intelligence  passed  along  the 
column  that  the  cavalry  had  come  up  with  the  enemy, 
and  were  waiting  the  arrival  of  an  infantry  force  to 
assist  in  the  attack. 

"  Good  !  "  shouted  Tom.  "  We  shall  have  a  battle 
before  night." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  added  Hapgood.  "  It  takes  the  cat 
a  good  while  to  catcli  the  mouse,  even  after  she  smells 
the  critter." 

"  Why  don't  we  march?  What  are  we  stopping  here 
for?"    said  Tom,  impatiently. 

"  They  say  Smith's  division  has  got  in  ahead  of  us. 
Keep  cool,  Tom;  never  be  in  a  hurry  for  a  battle. 
Some  of  us  that  stand  here  now  won't  be  alive  in 
twenty-four    hours   from   now ;   for  I  don't   beUeve  the 


286  ^-^^    SOLDIER    EOT,  OR 

rebs  are  going  to  let  us  have  it  all  our  own  way," 
said  the  veteran. 

"  Nor  I,"  added  Fred  Pemberton.  "  I  shall  be  killed 
in  this  fight." 

"How  do  you  know,  Fred?"  demanded  Hapgood, 
sternly. 

"  Of  course  I  don't  know,  but  I  feel  it  in  my  bones 
that  I  shall  fall  in  the  first  battle." 

"Your  bones  ain't  no  guide  at  all.  I  know  some- 
thing about  this  business,  and  I've  seen  croakers  afore 
to-day.  Don't  talk  about  being  killed,  or  even  hit. 
Be  ready  to  die,  do  your  duty  like  a  soldier,  and 
leave  all  the  rest  to  your  ]\Iaker,"  said  the  veteran, 
solemnly. 

"  I  don't  have  any  such  feeling  as  that.  I  know  I 
shan't  be  killed,"  laughed  Ben.  "  The  bullet  hasn't 
been  cast  yet  that  will  stop  my  Avind." 

"  Perhaps  it  has,  my  boy.  It  may  be  in  some  rebel 
soldier's  cartridge  box  over  yonder,  even  now.  I  tell 
you,  boys,  you  don't  know  any  thing  about  it.  Just 
afore  Ave  Avent  in  at  Cerry  Gordy,  a  feller  by  my  side  said 
the  same  thing  you  did,  Ben  ;  and  lie  Avas  the  first  man 
that  went  doAvn.  I  tried  to  pick  him  up,  and  do 
something  for  him,  but  he  Avas  stone  dead.  I  tell  you, 
Ben,  you  don't  knoAv  any  thing  about  it.  Leave  it  all 
to  the  Almighty." 

"  Pooh,  uncle  ! "  sneer«d  Ben,  trying  to  laugh  doAvu 


TOM  so^fEJ^s  ix  the  army. 


287 


the  solemn  words  of  the  old  man.  "  Don't  you  think 
we'd  better  have  a  prayer  meetin'  before  we  go 
in  ?  '* 

"  I  think  we  should  fight  the  better  for  it,  for  h© 
who  trusts  in  God  don't  fear  death." 

But  it  was  evident  that  the  words  of  Hapgood, 
especially  the  incident  of  Cerro  Gordo,  had  made  a  deep 
impression  upon  the  mind  of  the  thoughtless  young  man. 
Though  the  division  did  not  move  for  three  hours,  he 
was  very  silent  and  sober.  He  seemed  to  feel  that  he 
had  been  tempting  Providence  by  his  bold  speech,  and 
even  expressed  his  regret  to  Tom  for  what  he  had 
said. 

It  was  dark  when  the  order  to  march  was  given. 
The  night  was  exceedingly  gloomy,  and  the  rain  poured 
down  upon  the  devoted  army,  as  it  moved  forward  to 
do  its  great  work.  Hour  after  hour,  in  the  deep  dark- 
ness and  the  pouring  rain,  the  men  struggled  through 
the  mire,  expecting  every  moment  to  be  hurled  upon 
the  rebel  battalions,  or  to  meet  the  impetuous  onset 
of  the   foe. 

Between  ten  and  eleven,  when  the  men  were  nearly 
worn  out  by  the  exhausting  labors  of  the  march,  they 
were  ordered  to  halt  in  the  road,  and  bivouac  for  the 
rest  of  the  night.  What  a  time  and  what  a  place  for 
repose  I  They  could  only  wrap  themselves  up  in  their 
wet  blankets,  and  stretch  themselves  upon  the  ground, 


23^  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

soaked  with  water,  and  with  the  rain  still  pouring 
down  upon  them.  But  they  slept,  and  enjoyed  their 
rest,  for  Nature  was   imperative  in  her  demands. 

At  daylight  the  march  was  resumed  ;  for  the  intrepid 
Hooker,  ever  faithful  to  the  trust  confided  to  him,  was 
wholly  in  earnest.  At  half  past  five  the  column  was 
halted  in  the  woods.  The  rebel  works  before  Williams- 
burg were  in  sight,  and  General  Hooker  rode  to  the 
front  to  examine  the  position  of  the  enemy. 

In  front  of  the  rebel  batteries,  and  on  each  side  of 
the  roads,  the  trees  had  been  felled,  in  order  to  give  the 
guns  in  the  field  works  full  play  upon  an  approaching 
force. 

"  Hurrah  \  "  shouted  some  of  the  boys  on  the  right 
of  the  column.  "  Our  brigade  is  to  commence  the 
attack." 

"How  do  you  know?"  growled  Hapgood,  who  did 
not  think  a  soldier  ought  to  know  any  thing  about  the 
plan  of  the  battle. 

"We  are  ordered  to  move,"  replied  Tom.  "I  sup- 
pose that's  all  they  know  about  it." 

The  prophets  on  the  right  were  correct  this  time, 
for  the  regiment  was  soon  sent  to  the  right  of  the 
road,  and  ordered  to  deploy  as  skirmishers.  A  bat- 
tery was  thrown  forward  in  front  of  the  felled  timber  ; 
but  before  a  gun  could  be  fired,  two  officers  and  two 
privates   were    seen   to   fall  before   the    unerring  aim 


TO.\f   SOAfE/iS   /X    THE    ARMY. 


289 


of    the    rebel    sliarpshooters,    occupying    the    rifle    pits 
which  dotted  the  cleared   land  in   front  of  the  forts. 

"  That's  a  hot  place,"    said  Ben  Lethbridge. 

"  AVe  shall  all  see  hot  work  before  the  sun  goes 
down  to-night,"  replied  Tom.  "  But  let  us  stand  up 
to  it  like  men." 

"  That's  the  talk,  Tom  !  "  exclaimed  Hapgood. 
"Have  you  got  tliose  socks  on,  my  boy?" 

''I  have,  uncle;  and  I  have  the  letter  and  the  pho- 
tograph in  my  pocket." 

"  Good,  Tom  !  After  this  day's  work  is  over,  you 
can  write  the  lady  a  letter,  and  tell  her  that  her  socks 
have  been  in  a  battle." 

"And  that  I  didn't  run  away  in  them." 

The  roar  of  the  guns  in  Fort  Magruder  interrupted 
the  conversation.  The  gunners  of  the  battery  in  front 
of  them  had  been  driven  from  their  pieces  ;  but  it  was 
almost  instantly  manned  by  volunteers,  and  a  destruc- 
tive fire  poured  into  the  works.  Other  batteries  were 
brought  up,  and  the  fort  was  soon  silenced.  The  roar 
of  battle  sounded  all  along  the  line ;  the  thunder  of 
cannon  and  the  crash  of  musketry  reverberated  through 
the  woods  and  over  the  plain,  assuring  the^  impatient 
troops  that  they  were  engaged  in  no  trivial  affair ;  that 
they  were  fighting  a  great  battle,  of  which  thousands 
yet  unborn  would  read  upon  the  pages   of  history. 

Our   regiment   closed   up   its   lines,   and  the    gallant 
25 


290  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

colonel  gave  the  order  to  move  forward  in  the  direction 
of  the  field  works.  On,  on,  steadily  and  firmly  marched 
the  men  of  Massachusetts,  through  ditch  and  swamp, 
through  mud  and  mire,  loading,  firing,  and  charging, 
as  the  enemy  presented  opportunity.  The  hot  work  of 
the  day  had  commenced  ;  for,  from  every  bush,  tree,  and 
covert,  which  could  conceal  a  man,  the  rebels  poured 
a  deadly  fire  into   the  ranks  of  the  advancing  Federals. 

Tom  stood  as  firm  as  a  rock.  The  doubts  and  fears 
which  beset  him  in  his  first  battle  had  no  existence  on 
this  day.  So  thoroughly  had  he  schooled  his  mind  to 
the  fearful  ordeal  of  carnage,  that  he  felt  quite  at  home. 
He  w^as  cool  and  determined,  and  continually  encouraged 
those  around  him  by  his  cheering  words  as  well  as  by 
his  example. 

"  Ben  is  down  !  "  exclaimed  Hapgood. 

*'  Poor  fellow  !  "  replied  Tom,  without  taking  his  eye 
off  the  foe  in  front. 

"  There  goes  Bob  Dornton  !  "    added  Hapgood. 

"  Stand  up  to  it,  my  men  !  "  said  Tom,  firmly,  for  he 
had  no  time  then  to  think  of  the  fallen. 

"  Forward !  "  shouted  the  impetuous  colonel,  who, 
if  he  had  never  been  popular  with  the  men  before, 
was  rapidly  establishing  himself  in  their  good  graces 
by  his  unflinching  heroism.  ''  Forward  !  double  quick ! 
march  !  " 

And  on  dashed    the    gallant  regiment,  mounting  thi 


TOM  SOBERS    IX    THE    ARMY.  291 

enemy's  lofty  works,  and  driving  the  foe  before  them 
like  sheep,  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  Tliis  Mas  the 
first  experience  of  this  exciting  description  whicli  Tom 
had  seen,  and  he  entered  into  the  spirit  of  it  with  a 
hearty  zeal. 

"Hah!"  was  the  order,  as  a  regiment  filed  out  in 
front  of  them,  with  a  flag  of  truce  flying  on  its  front. 
"Steady— don't  fire,"    repeated    several  officers  alon^ 

o 

the  line. 

"What  regiment  are  you?'*  shouted  a  person,  as 
the  flag  came  within  speaking  distance. 

"  AVTiat  are  you?"  demanded  an  ofiicer  of  the  storm- 
ing party. 

"  We're  the  Alabama  eighth  !  " 

"AVe    are    the    Massachusetts    — th,"     replied    our 


men. 


"Then  you  are  the  villains  we  want ? "  returned  the 
rebel,  plentifully  interlarding    the    sentence  with  oaths. 

The  flag  of  truce  dropped,  and  the  dastardly  foe 
poured  in  a  volley  of  musketry,  before  which  a  dozen 
of  our  brave  boys  fell,  either  killed  or  wounded. 

"  Fire !  "  yelled  the  colonel ;  and  the  order  was 
obeyed  with  a  will.  "  Charge  bayonets  !  Forward  — 
double  quick  —  march  !  " 

The  men,  burning  with  indignation  at  the  treachery 
of  the  rebel  horde,  sprang  forward  to  wreak  their 
righteous  vengeance    upon    the    cowardly  traitors.     So 


292  '^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

impetuous  was  the  cliarge,  that  the  rebel  regiment 
broke,  and  sought  safety  in  flight. 

"  Down  with  them  I  "  hoarsely  screamed  Tom,  as 
the  line  swayed  forward,  and  pursued  the  panic-stricken 
foe  into  the  woods  on  tlie  left.  The  even  line  was 
broken,  and  the  boys  scattered  to  do  their  work  to 
the  best  advantage. 

Tom's  legs  seemed  to  be  in  excellent  condition,  not- 
withstanding the  toilsome  marches  of  the  last  twenty- 
four  hours  ;  and  he  dashed  forward  into  the  w^oods  fol- 
lowed by  only  a  dozen  choice  spirits,  wliose  enthusiasm 
was  equal  to  his  own.  A  squad  of  flying  rebels  in  front 
of  them  Avas  the  ol)ject  of  their  present  anxiety,  and 
they  soon  distanced  their  companions. 

The  rebels,  seeing  by  how  small  a  force  they  were 
pursued,  rallied   and  formed  line  again. 

''  Give  it  to  them  !  "  cried  Tom,  as  he  led  his  little 
force  upon  the  rebels. 

'^  Hold  on,  Tom  !  "  said  Hapgood  ;  "  we  have  gone  far 
enough.     Tliere's  a  rebel  regiment  forming  behind  us." 

"  Can't  help  it,"  said  Tom,  as  he  rushed  forward, 
with  the  veteran  by  his  side.      "  Give  it  to  them  !  " 

Tom  and  his  men  threw  themselves  upon  the  rebel 
squad,  and  a  sliarp  fight  ensued,  in  which  the  parties 
fought  with  bayonets,  clubbed  muskets,  and  even  with 
the  death  grip  upon  each  other's  throats.  The  traitors 
could  not  stand  it,  and  fled  asrain. 


TOM   SO  ME  US   JX    THE   ARMV.  293 

The  sergeant  glanced  behind  him,  and  saw  the  rebel 
regiment  formed  ready  to  charge  upon  his  own.  He 
was  cnt  off  from  his  friends,  with  the  enemy  on  his 
front  and  rear.  Three  of  his  men  had  fallen  in  the 
sharp  encounter  with  the  rebels,  and  most  of  them 
were  wounded  or  bruised,  and  all  of  them  out  of  breath. 
To  add  to  the  peril  of  the  situation,  the  squad  they 
had  been  pursuing  were  rallying  and  being  retinforced 
by  their  fugitive  companions. 

"  Bad,  Tom,  bad,"  said  Hapgood,  avIio  was  puffing 
and  blowing  like  a  porpoise,  as  he  ominously  shook 
his  head. 

"  Follow  me  !  "  said  Tom,  confidently,  as  he  led  the 
way  in  a  direction  at  right  angles  with  the  advance 
of  the  party. 

Our  regiment  had  reformed  again,  and  soon  gave 
that  in  front  of  them  enough  to  do.  The  rebels 
in  their  rear  caused  the  sergeant's  squad  no  little 
annoyance  ;  but  they  continued  on  their  course,  load- 
ing and  firing  as  they  retreated. 
25* 


294  "^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 


CHAPTER    XXX. 


MORE    OF    THE    BATTLE. 


HILE  Tom  and  bis  little  command  were 
Avorking  their  way  back  to  the  Union  lines, 
followed  up  by  the  disorganized  band  of 
rebels,  a  series  of  most  unearthly  yells  swept  over  the 
field,  for  they  had  emerged  from  the  woods.  It  was  the 
rallying  cry  of  the  Confederate  regiment  which  had 
formed  in  their  rear.  They  were  charging  upon  the  Mas- 
sachusetts — th  ;  but  they  might  as  Avell  have  charged 
upon  the  Rock  of  Gibraltar,  for  presently  Tom  was  de- 
lighted to  see  them  retiring  before  the  tremendous 
onslaught  of  his  friends. 

"  Hurrah ! "  shouted  he,  forgetting  the  foe  in  his 
rear,  and  pressing  forward  to  that  on  his  front,  at  the 
same  time  changing  his  course  so  as  to  approach  the 
right  wing  of  the  rebel  reiriment. 

"  Don't  be  rash,  Tom,"  said  the  old  soldier,  who 
never  permitted  the  sergeant  to  leave  his  side. 

"Follow  me,  boys!"  roaied  Tom,  breathless  Avith 
excitement,  as  he  started  off  on  the  double  quick  toAvards 
*^e  breaking  lines  of  the  enemy. 


TOM   SOMEiiS    IX    THE   AHMY.  295 

"  Here  we  are  !  "  replied  the  galluut  fellows  behiud 
him,  pushing  Ibrward  Avitli  a  zeal  equal  to  that  of  their 
leader,  from  whom  they  derived  their  inspiration.  "  Go 
in,  sergeant,  and  we'll  stand  by  you." 

But  the  bold  soldier  boy  had  discretion  as  well  as 
gallantry  ;  and  he  saw  that  if  he  threAv  his  little  force 
upon  the  rebel  line,  the  whole  party  would  be  instantly 
annihilated.  A  covert  of  bushes  fortunately  lay  on  the 
right  flank  of  the  retreating  regiment,  and  Tom  ordered 
his  men  to  conceal  themselves  behind  it,  until  a  favor- 
able moment  should  arrive  to  take  their  places  in  the 
lines. 

The  men  w^ere  glad  enough  to  obtain  a  breathing 
spell ;  but,  at  such  a  tremendous  moment  as  that,  idleness 
would  have  been  treason,  for  such  a  glorious  oppor- 
tunity to  strike  a  heavy  blow  had  not  before  occurred. 

"  Load  up,  and  fire  at  will,"  said  Tom,  as  he  charged 
his  musket.     "  Don't  throw  your  lead  away  either." 

"  We  are  a  dead  shot  here  if  we  are  any  wdiere," 
added  Hapgood,  as  he  and  the  rest  of  the  party  hastily 
loaded  their  muskets. 

Pop  went  Tom's  piece  first,  and  over  went  the  rebel 
at  the  extreme  right  of  the  rebel  regiment.  There  was 
no  such  thing  as  missing  the  mark,  for  they  were  on 
the  flank  of  the  Confederate  line,  which  the  united  efforts 
of  the  officers  could  hardly  preserve.  The  men  in  the 
covert  fired  when  they  were  ready  ;  and  as  they  carefully 


296  ^-^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

observed  the  injuuction  of  Tom  not  to  waste  their  lead, 
every  shot  told  upon  the  rebels. 

The  Confederate  officers  glanced  nervously  at  the 
clump  of  bushes,  which  glowed  with  flashes  of  fire  as 
the  sergeant's  little  command  poured  in  their  volleys  ; 
but  they  were  too  closely  pressed  by  the  Federals  in 
front  to  attempt  to  dislodge  tliem.  The  rebel  privates 
were  not  long  in  ascertaining  what  was  so  clear  to  their 
officers  —  that  they  were  flanked,  and  were  being  shot 
down  like  sheep,  from  a  quarter  where  they  could  not 
defend  themselves.  They  had  been  slowly  and  doggedly 
retiring  before  the  advancing  Federals,  disputing  every 
inch  of  ground ;  but  when  they  realized  that  the  bolts 
of  death  were  dropping  among  them  from  another  direc- 
tion, they  could  no  longer  endure  that  awful  suspense 
which  takes  possession  of  the  minds  of  men  Avheu  they 
are  suspended,  as  it  were,  between  life  and  death. 

Tom  saw  them  waver,  and  he  knew  Avhat  it  meant. 
The  rebel  line  was  just  abreast  of  him,  and  he  had  seen 
at  least  a  scere  of  msn  fall  before  the  deadly  fire  of  his 
party. 

"  Give  it  to  them,  boys !  They  shake !  "  shouted 
Tom,  as  he  delivered  his  fire  again.  "  Pour  in  as  fast 
as  you  can,  but  don't  waste  your  powder." 

The  men  redoubled  their  exertion,  and  the  rapidity  of 
their  fire  was  sensibly  increased.  The  effect  w^as  soon 
perceptible  in  the  rebel  ranks  ;  for  the  right  of  the  line, 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE    ARMY.  297 

probably  supposing  a  company,  if  not  a  whole  regiment, 
of  sharpshooters  was  concealed  in  the  covert,  suddenly 
broke  and  fled  with  the  utmost  precipitation,  in  spite  of 
the  gallant  eilorts  of  their  officers  to  rally  thera. 

The  Federal  regiment  instantly  took  advantage  of  this 
partial  panic,  and  charged  furiously  upon  the  re  be', 
line.  A  desperate  hand-to-hand  encounter  ensued,  during 
which  Tom  and  his  companions  emerged  from  their  con 
cealment,  and  ran  along  the  rear  of  the  victorious  line- 
They  soon  satisfied  themselves  of  what  they  had  befor«» 
believed  —  that  the  regiment  Avas  their  own;  and  the> 
lost  no  time  in  finding  the  company  to  which  they  be' 
longed.  They  joined  in  the  pursuit,  which  soon  ende>^ 
in  the  utter  rout  of  the  rebel  force. 

The  position  of  the  enemy's  lines  did  not  permit  then* 
to  follow  the  advantage  to  any  great  extent,  and  the 
order  was  soon  given  to  fall  back.  At  this  juncture  the 
regiment,  which  had  been  constantly  engaged  for  several 
hours,  was  relieved  ;  and  not  too  early  in  the  day,  for  Xh* 
men  were  completely  exhausted  by  the  furious  onslaughts 
they  had  made. 

"  Who  were  those  men  in  the  bushes  on  the  flank  of 
the  rebel  regiment  ?  "  demanded  the  colonel,  as  he  reined 
up  his  jaded  horse  in  front  of  Company  K. 

"  Sergeant  Somers  and  others,"  replied  Captain  Benson. 

•'  Somers  again  !  "    exclaimed  the  colonel. 

"  Yes,    sir.      They    pursued    the    regiment    into    the 


298  '^^^    SOLDIER   BOY,  OR 

woods  —  the  one  that  showed  the  flag  of  truce  —  till 
they  were  separated  from  the  rest  of  us." 

"  Forward,  Sergeant  Somers,"    added  the  colonel. 

Tom  modestly  stepped  forward,  and  he  would  have 
blushed  if  his  face  had  not  been  so  reddened  by  his  previous 
exertions  as  to  leave  no  room  for  a  deepening  of  its  tint. 

"  You  did  a  big  thing.  Sergeant  Somers.  You  broke 
that  rebel  line  by  your  steady  fire.  Sergeant  Somers,  I 
thank  you  and  the  men  you  commanded  for  your  good 
service." 

Tom  bowed,  and  the  regiment  cheered.  It  was  the 
proudest  moment  of  his  life  to  be  thanked  on  tlie  field, 
while  the  guns  were  roaring  and  the  musketry  rattling, 
for  the  good  service  he  had  rendered.  It  would  form  an 
excellent  paragraph  for  his  letter  to  Lilian  Ashford, 
especially  as  he  had  more  than  once,  in  the  perils  of  that 
exciting  hour,  thought  of  the  socks  he  wore,  and  of  the 
letter  and  the  photograph  which  nestled  in  his  breast 
pocket,  and  upon  which  his  quick  throbbing  heart  was 
beating  the  notes  of  glory  and  victory. 

"  We  gave  you  up  for  lost,"  said  Captain  Benson, 
as  Tom  returned  to  the  line. 

"  We  are  safe,  thank  God !  "  replied  Tom,  "  though 
three  of  our  number  fell  in  the  woods,  or  on  the  field 
where  we  were  chased  by  the  rebels." 

"  Sergeant  Somers  saved  us,"  added  uncle  Hapgood. 
"  If  he  hadn't  been  as   cool   as   a  cowcumber,   and  aa 


TOM   SOMERS   IX    THE   ARMT.  299 

Stiff  as  the  mainmast  of  a  frigate,  we  should  have  been 
taken,  every  one  of  us." 

''  Bravo,  Tom  !  "   said  the  captain. 

''  The  men  stood  by  me  like  heroes,  or  it  would  have 
been  all  up  with  the  Avhole  of  us.  They  are  good  fel- 
lows, and  they  deserve  as  much  credit  as  I  do." 

The  battle  continued  to  rage  with  increasing  fury,  till 
the  roar,  and  the  crash,  and  the  sweep  of  armed  legions 
beggared  description.  Regiments  and  brigades  advanced 
and  fell  back  A\dth  the  varying  fortunes  of  the  day,  but 
as  yet  there  was  nothing  to  indicate  the  final  result. 

When  the  men  of  our  regiment  had  recovered  their 
breath,  an  order  came  for  them  to  proceed  to  the  left. 
On  their  arrival  at  the  position  assigned  to  them,  they 
were  immediately  led  to  the  front,  where  the  batteries 
which  had  been  pouring  a  hot  fire  into  the  enemy  were 
in  imminent  danger  of  being  surrounded.  Indeed,  the 
swoop  of  the  rebel  infantry  upon  the  gims  had  already 
been  made,  and  the  cannoneers  had  been  driven  from 
their  stations.  "With  the  colonel  on  the  right,  and  the 
adjutant  in  command  on  the  left,  the  regiment  charged 
upon  the  foe,  as  it  had  twice  before  charged  on  that 
eventful  day,  with  an  enthusiasm  bordering  upon  fury. 

The  rebels  had  even  spiked  one  of  the  guns,  and  they 
maintained  their  position  with  an  obstinacy  which  prom- 
ised the  annihilation  of  one  or  the  other  of  the  contend- 
ing forces.    A  desperate  strife  ensued,  in  which  the  least 


300  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

perceptible  advantage  -was  gaiued  by  the  Federals. 
But  if  they  could  do  no  more,  they  held  the  enemy  in 
check,  till  the  gunners  could  charge  their  pieces  with 
grape  and  canister,  which  they  poured  into  tlie  rebels 
with  the  most  deadly  effect. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  shouted  Tom,  as  the  rebels  quaked  be- 
fore the  withering  storm  of  shot  belched  forth  by  the 
guns  of  the  battery.     "  They  shake  !    Give  it  to  them  !  " 

'*  Steady,  my  men !  steady,"  said  Captain  Benson. 
"  The  ammunition  of  the  battery  is  expended,"  he 
added,  as  the  cannon  ceased  their  work  of  destruction. 
"  We  must  hold  these  pieces,  and  every  man  must  do 
his  duty." 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir  !  "  replied  Tom,  vigorously,  and  the 
cry  was  repeated  through  the  comj^any. 

As  soon  as  the  guns  were  thus  rendered  useless,  the 
enemy  SAvept  down  upon  the  supports  again,  intent  upon 
capturing  the  pieces.  They  advanced  with  that  terrific 
yell  which  is  enough  of  itself  to,  frighten  a  nervous 
man,  and  Avith  an  impetuosity  which  nothing  human 
could  resist.  Our  regiment  recoiled  under  the  shock ; 
but  it  was  forced  back  by  the  sheer  stress  of  numbers. 

"  Rally,  men  !  R-ally,  my  brave  fellows  ! "  shouted 
the  adjutant,  in  command  of  the  left  wing. 

"  Stand  stiff!    Roll  them  back  I  "    roared  the  colonel. 

"  Steady,  men  I  "    added  Captain  Benson. 

"  Now,  give   it    to  them !  "    screamed   Tom,   as   h^ 


TOi\r  so  ME  Its  ly  the  ah  my.  ^qi 

plunged  his  bayonet  into  the  vitals  of  the  rebel  in 
front  of  liim,  and  pushed  forward  into  the  very  midst 
of  the  foe. 

The  sergeant  seemed  suddenly  to  be  endowed  with  the 
strength  of  a  giant,  and  he  held  his  own  till  Hapgood 
sprang  to  his  assistance.  The  rest  of  the  line,  inspired 
by  this  daring  conduct,  rushed  forward,  and  fell  upon  the 
foe  with  a  fury  that  could  not  be  resisted. 

"  Bravo  !    Bravo,  Tom  !  "     shouted  the  captain. 

"  Go  in,  boys  !  "    roared  the  lieutenant. 

And  the  boys  "  Avent  in,"  and  forced  back  the  rebel 
line,  and  held  the  guns  until  another  battery  with  a  sup- 
ply of  ammunition  arrived  upon  the  ground  to  relieve 
them.  The  enemy  Avas  again  repulsed,  and  the  guns 
were  saved  by  the  unflinching  heroism  of  our  gallant 
Massachusetts  regiment  —  another  paragraph  for  the 
letter  to  Lilian  Ashford. 
26 


3Q2  THE    SOLDIER    BOY^  OM 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 


GLORY    AND    VICTORY. 


/^^^HE  battle  now  raged  more  fiercely  than  ever, 
/  I  and  hotter  and  hotter  became  the  fire  on  every 
vJ^  side.  The  shouts  of  the  enemy  indicated  the 
arrival  of  reenforcements.  "  Johnston  !  "  "  Longstreet  I  " 
resounded  over  the  field,  and  roused  the  rebels  to  re- 
newed activity.  More  certainly  was  the  increase  of  the 
enemy's  force  determined  by  the  gradual  falling  back 
of  the  brigade  at  the  left  of  the  road ;  but  the  men 
fought  with  desperate  courage,  and  yielded  not  a  foot 
of   ground  without    enriching    it  with  tlieir  best  blood. 

There  were  no  signs  of  reenforcements  for  our  ex- 
hausted troops,  though  a  Avhole  corps  was  within  hearing 
of  the  booming  guns  that  were  slaughtering  our  out- 
numbered and  exhausted  brigades.  On  the  field  the 
aspect  began  to  be  dark  and  unpromising,  and  Tom 
prayed  with  all  his  soul  that  he  might  be  spared  the 
pain  of  beholding  another  defeat,  another  rout. 

Our  regiment  was  ordered  to  the  support  of  the  yield- 
ing brigade  on  the  left.     The  woods  were  full  of  rebels, 


TOM   SOMEJiS    IX    TH!-:    ARMY.  3Q3 

and  the  issue  of  the  conflict  in  this  part  of  the  field  was 
ahiiost  hopeless.  The  enemy  seemed  to  be  inspired  by 
the  slight  advantage  they  had  gained,  and  their  yells 
were  fiercer  and  more  diabolical  than  ever,  as  they  gath- 
ered themselves  up  for  a  desperate  onslaught. 

The  Federal  brigade  was  overmatchei.1,  and  the  result 
seemed  to  waver  upon  a  balance  ;  then  the  equilibrium 
was  slightly  disturbed,  and  the  Union  force  fell  back  a 
little,  but  only  a  little,  and  doggedly  resisted  the  advance 
^  of  the  foe.  It  needed  but  little  to  restore  the  equilibrium, 
and  our  regiment,  after  struggling  through  the  mud  with 
all  attainable  speed,  arrived  upon  the  spot  when  the 
prospect  was  so  gloomy  for  the  loyal  cause. 

The  men  were  almost  exhausted  by  the  tremendous 
strain  which  had  all  day  long  been  imposed  upon  their 
nervous  systems,  and  by  the  physical  exertion  required 
of  them.  But  the  battle  was  going  against  the  Xorth, 
and  they  were  ready  again  to  make  a  desperate  effort  to 
redeem  the  field. 

'•  One  more  of  your  Massachusetts  charges,  colonel," 
said  General  Hooker,  as  the  weary  soldiers  moved  up  to 
the  endangered  position. 

"You  shall  have  it,  general.  My  men  are  always 
ready,  though  they  are  nearly  used  up." 

"Hancock  and  Kearney  are  close  by,  and  if  wq 
CAn  hold  out  a  few  minutes  longer,  all  will  be  wel] 
with  us." 


304  '^^^   SOT.niER   BOY,    OR 

''  We'll  drive  them  back,  general !  "  shouted  the 
colonel. 

"  Go  in,  then ! "  added  the  gallant  Hooker,  waving 
his  sword  to  encourage  the  soldiers.  *'  Forward  !  You 
have  no  time  to  lose  !  " 

The  fiery  colonel  briefly  stated  to  the  regiment  the 
nature  of  the  work  before  them,  admonished  the  men  to 
do  as  they  had  done  all  day,  and  Massachusetts  would 
be  proud  of  them.  A  ringing  cheer  was  the  reply  to 
the  stirring  words  of  the  colonel,  and  the  orders  were 
given  for  the  advance. 

On  went  the  brave  fellows  like  a  wall  of  iron,  and 
precipitated  themselves  upon  the  rebels,  buoyant  with 
hope  as  they  followed  up  their  temporary  advantage. 
The  point  of  attack  was  all  in  their  favor,  and  their  ex- 
hilarating shouts  as  they  sprang  upon  the  foe  kindled  up 
the  expiring  enthusiasm  of  the  yielding  brigade  to  whose 
assistance  they  had  come.  The  shock  Avas  terrible  — 
more  fearful  and  destructive  than  any  which  our  boys 
had  before  experienced. 

"  Steady,  my  men  !  "     shouted  Captain  "Benson. 

"  Give  it  to  them !  "  roared  Tom,  maddened  to 
desperation  by  the  awful  strife  around  him,  and  by 
seeing  so  many  of  our  men  fall  by  his  side. 

"Stand  up  to  it!"  shouted  the  excited  colonel. 
"  They  run  !  " 

At  this  moment  an  inequality  of  the  ground  beneath 


TOJf   SOMERS    IX    THE    ARMY.  305 

the  men  of  Company  K  i)liiccd  them  in  a  bad  position, 
and  the  rebels  in  front  of  them,  taking  advantage  of  the 
circumstance,  pressed  forward,  and  actually  broke  through 
the  line,  trampling  some  of  our  soldiers  beneath  their 
feet,  and  transfixing  tlicm  Avith  their  bayonets. 

A  terrible  scene  ensued  at  this  gap  in  the  ranks,  for 
the  whole  rebel  regiment  began  to  press  into  the  weak 
place.  The  breach  was  made  by  the  side  of  our  ser- 
geant, so  that  he  was  not  borne  down  by  the  pressure 
of  the  rebel  battalion. 

'•  Close  up  !  "  yelled  Tom.  "  Close  up  !  Hail,  Co- 
lumbia !     and  give  it  to  them  !  " 

Drawing  a  revolver  which  he  had  been  permitted 
to  retain  after  the  capture  of  the  contraband  craft  on 
the  Potomac,  he  discharged  its  six  barrels  into  the  fore- 
most of  the  assailants  ;  and  Hapgood  and  Fred  Pem- 
berton,  who  were  armed  in  like  manner  from  the  same 
source,  imitated  the  example  of  the   sergeant. 

"  Now  give  them  the  bayonet,  boys !  "  screamed 
Tom,  hoarsely,  as  he  plunged  into  the  midst  of  the 
rebels. 

The  men  on  the  other  side  of  the  gap  pushed  for- 
ward with  equal  energy,  and  the  ranks  closed  up 
again  over  a  pile  of  dead  and  wounded  rebels,  and 
Federals,   who  had  fallen  in  that  sharp  encounter, 

"  Bravo  !  "  shouted  General  Hooker,  whose  attention 
had  been  drawn  to  the  break  in  the  line.  "Bravo, 
26* 


306  THE    SOLD  J  En    BOY,  OR 

sergeant  I  "    You  shall  have   a   commission  !    Forward, 
my  brave  boys  !     Massachusetts  sees  you  !  " 

"  Up  and  at  them,"  cried  Tom,  as  the  rebels  begatf 
to  yield  and  break  before  the  tremendous  charge  of  ou/ 
regiment. 

The  young  sergeant's  throat  was  raw  with  the  shout' 
ing  he  had  done,  and  his  limbs  Avere  beginning  to  yield 
to  the  fatigues  of  the  day  ;  but  the  words  of  the  com- 
mander of  the  division  made  him  over  new  again,  and 
his  husky  voice  still  rang  along  the  line,  full  of  new 
courajie  and  new  energy  to  his  exhausted  comrades. 
The  rebels  Avere  driven  back  for  the  time,  and  fled  before 
the  iron  masses  that  crowded  upon  them. 

The  regiment  was  recalled,  and  the  weary  troops,  now 
almost  decimated  by  the  slaughter  which  had  taken 
place  in  their  ranks,  were  permitted  to  breathe  once 
more. 

'"  This  is  awful,"  said  the  veteran  of  Company  K, 
panting  from  the  violence  of  his  exertions.  "  I  never 
saw  any  thing  like  this  before." 

''  Nor  I,"  replied  Tom,  dropping  upon  the  ground 
with  exhaustion. 

"  I  know  something  about  this  business.  I  thought 
Carry  Gordy  was  consid'able  of  a  battle,  but  'twan't 
nothin'  like  this." 

"  It's  awful,"  sighed  Tom,  as  he  thought  of  the  orood 
fellows  he  had  seen  fall  upon  the  field. 


To^^  :io^fEIis  ix  the  armt.  397 

"  Ileups  of  our  boys  liave  gone  down  !  " 

"  Attention  —  battalion  !  "  came  ringing  with  star- 
tling effect  along  the  line,  in  the  familiar  tones  of  the 
intrepid  colonel. 

"  li  we  win  the  day,  we  can  afford  to  lose  many. 
Victory  or  death  !  "  shouted  Tom,  as  he  sprang  to  his 
feet,  in  obedience  to  the  command.  "  More  Avork 
for  us !  " 

'*  How  do  you  feel,  Tom?"  demanded  the  veteran, 
as  they  sprang  into  the  line. 

"  All  right,"  replied  Tom,  with  a  forced  buoyancy 
of  spirits. 

"Are  you  sure,  my  boy?"  continued  the  veteran, 
gazing  w^ith   deep  anxiety  into  the  face  of  the  sergeant. 

"  I'm  first  rate,  uncle.  I  think  I  can  stand  it  as  lono- 
as  any  body  else." 

"  You  have  done  wonders  to-day,  Tom.  I'm  proud 
of  you,  but  I'm  afeard  you  are  doing  too  much.  If  you 
are  used  up,  it  wouldn't  be  any  disgrace  for  you  to  go  to 
the  rear.  After  what  you've  done,  nobody  will  say  a 
word.     Don't  kill  yourself,  Tom,  but  go  to  the  rear." 

'•I  go  to  the  real  !  "  exclaimed  Tom,  with  indig- 
nation. 

"  If  you  are  disabled,  I  mean,  of  course,"  apologized 
the  veteran. 

"  I'm  not  disabled.  If  I  go  to  the  rear  with  these  socka 
on,  it  won't  be  till  after  the  breath  has  left  my  body." 


308  '^^^^    SOLDIER    EOT,    OR 

"  Socks  !  "  replied  Hapgood,  with  a  sneer.  "  I'm 
afeard  that  gal  Avill  be  the  death  of  you." 

"  I  dou't  skulk  in  these  socks,"  replied  Tom,  with  a 
faint  smile,  as  the  regiment  moved  off  on  the  double 
quick  to   some  new  position  of  peril. 

"  The  rebels  are  flanking  us  !  "  shouted  an  officer  in 
another  command,  as  our  regiment  hurried  forward  to 
the  endangered  point. 

"  That's   what  we    are   wanted   for,"    said   Hapgood. 

The  enemy  had  nearly  accomplished  their  purpose 
when  our  gallant  colonel  and  his  jaded  force  reached 
the  left  of  the  line,  and  in  a  few  moments  more  would 
have  poured  a  flanking  fire  into  our  devoted  battalions, 
which  were  struggling  with  terrible  energy  to  roll 
back  the  pressure  in  front  of  them. 

The  colonel  had  his  men  well  in  hand,  and  he  ma- 
noeuvred them  with  consummate  skill,  so  as  to  bring 
them  advantageously  to  the  work  they  were  to  per- 
form. The  resjiment  was  hurled  ao^ainst  the  head  of 
the  flanking  column,  and  the  boys  rushed  forward  with 
that  dash  and  spirit  which  had  characterized  their  con- 
duct half  a  score  of  times  before  in  various  parts  of 
the  field. 

Tom's  muscles  had  become  loose  and  soft  after  the 
long-continued  strain  upon  them,  and  if  his  soul  had 
not  been  ten  times  as  big  as  his  body,  he  must  have 
sunk  under  the  exhaustion  of  the  day.      Another  de** 


TOAf  SOMRRS   IX   THE   ARMY.  309 

perate  onslaught  was  required  of  the  men  of  our  regi- 
ment, and  commaudlug  all  his  energies,  Tom  braced 
himself  up  once  more  for  the  fearful  struggle. 

"  How  do  you  feel  now,  Tom  ?  "  demanded  the  anxious 
veteran,  as  he  bit  off  the  cartridge,  and  rammed  it  home. 

*'  First  rate,  uncle  ! "  replied  Tom,  as  the  regiment 
poured  a  withering  volley  into  the  rebel  line. 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  Tom,  don't  kill  yourself," 
added  the  old  man,  as  they  loaded  up  again.  "Your 
knees  shake  under  you  now." 

"Do  you  think  I'm  afraid,  uncle?"  demanded  the 
sergeant  with  a  grim  smile. 

"  No,  no,  Tom  ;  of  course  I  don't  think  any  thing 
of  the  kind.  I'm  afeard  you'll  bust  a  blood-vessel, 
or  something  of  that  sort." 

"  If  I  do,  I'll  let  you  know,  uncle." 

"Charge  bayonets!  Double  quick  —  march!"  rang 
along  the  line. 

"  Have  at  them  !  "  cried  Tom,  who  was  always  the 
first  to  catch  the  orders  of  the  commanding  officer. 
"  Down  with  them  !  Give  'em  Yankee  Doodle,  Hail, 
Columbia,  and  the  Red,  White,  and  Blue." 

The  advancing  column,  shaken  by  the  furious  fire 
of  our  .regiment,  recoiled  before  the  shock.  Slowly 
the  foe  fell  back,  leaving  heaps  of  their  slain  upon 
the  hotly-contested  ground.  Our  boys  halted,  and 
poured  in  another  destructive  volley. 


310  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

The  Confederate  officers  rallied  their  men,  and,  mad- 
dened by  the  check  they  had  received,  drove  them 
forward  to  recover  the  lost  ground. 

"  Once  more,  boys  !  Give  it  to  'em  again,"  cried 
Tom,  as  the  order  to  advance  was  repeated. 

His  words  were  only  representations  of  his  actions ; 
for,  as  he  spoke,  he  rushed  on  a  little  in  front  of  his 
comrades,  who,  however,  pressed  forward  to  keep  up 
with  him.  He  did  not  exceed  the  orders  of  his  supe- 
rior, but  he  was  one  of  the  promptest  to  obey  them. 
On  dashed  the  regiment,  and  again  the  rebel  line  re- 
coiled, and  soon  broke  in  spite  of  the  admirable  eiforts 
of  theu'  officers  to  keep  them  steady. 

''  Kearney  !  Kearney  !  Kearney  is  here  !  "  shouted 
the  weary  heroes  in  various  parts  of  the  field. 

''  Down  with  them  ! "  roared  Tom,  as  the  inspiring 
words  rang  in  his  ears.  "  Down  wdth  them  !  Kearney 
has  come,  and  the  day  is  ours  !  " 

He  had  scarcely  uttered  the  words,  and  sprung 
forward,  before  he  was  seen  to  drop  upon  the  ground, 
several  paces  in  front  of  the  line,  though  the  undaunted 
old  Hapgood  was  close  by  his  side.  The  enemy  had 
fled ;  the  danger  of  being  flanked  was  averted ;  and 
when  Kearney's  men  dashed  on  the  field,  the  sad-hearted 
veteran,  assisted  by  Fred  Pemberton,  bore  the  silent 
form  of  the  gallant  sergeant  to  the  rear. 

Kearney  and  Hancock  rushed  gallantly  to  the  rescue 


TOM   SOMEIiS   IX    THE   A  HUT.  ^H 

of  the  exhausted  troops,  and  Hooker's  division  was 
ordered  to  the  rear  to  act  as  a  reserve.  The  strife 
raged  with  unabated  fury  as  those  who  had  borne  the 
brunt  of  the  battle  slowly  fell  back  to  give  place  to 
the  fresh  legions. 

Poor  Tom  was  tenderly  carried  by  the  wiry  veteran 
and  his  friends  to  the  surgeon's  quarters  in  the  rear. 
There  were  tears  in  the  eyes  of  the  old  man  as  he 
(aid  the  silent  form  of  his  jprotege  upon  the  wet  ground. 
There  he  sat  by  his  charge,  sorrowful  beyond  expres- 
sion, till  tremendous  shouts  rent  the  air.  Tom  opened 
his  eyes. 

"  Glory  and  Victory  !  "  shouted  he,  in  husky  tones, 
AS  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 


312  ^-fl^-S    SOLDIER    BOY,    OB 


CHAPTER    XXXII, 


HONORABLE    MENTION. 


^  .y]  HE  surgeon  examined  Tom's  wound,  and  found 
/■  that  he  had  been  struck  by  a  bullet  over  the 
VJ^  left  temple.  The  flesh  was  torn  off,  and  if 
the  skull  was  not  fractured,  it  had  received  a  tremen- 
dous hard  knock.  It  was  probably  done  at  the  instant 
when  he  turned  to  rally  the  men  of  Company  K,  and 
the  ball  glanced  under  the  visor  of  his  cap,  close  enough 
to  scrape  upon  his  skull,  but  far  enough  oflT  to  save 
his  brains.  Half  an  inch  closer,  and  the  bullet  would 
have  wound  up  Tom's  earthly  career. 

The  shock  had  stunned  him,  and  he  had  dropped 
like  a  dead  man,  while  the  profusion  of  blood  that 
came  from  the  Avound  covered  his  face,  and  his  friends 
could  not  tell  whether  he  was  killed  or  not.  He  was 
a  pitiable  object  as  he  lay  on  the  ground  by  the  sur- 
geon's quarters  ;  but  the  veteran  soon  assured  himself 
that  his  young  charge  was  not  dead. 

Hapgood  washed  the  gore  from  his  face,  and  did 
what  he  could  in  his  unscientific  manner  ;  and  probably 


TOM  SOMERS    IX   THE   ARMY. 


3l?i 


the  cold  water  had  a  salutary  effect  upon  the  patient, 
for  when  Hancock  and  Kearney  had  completed  their 
work,  and  the  cry  of  victory  rang  over  the  bloody 
field,  he  was  sufficiently  revived  to  hear  the  inspiring 
tones  of  triumph.  Leaping  to  his  feet,  faint  and  sick 
as  he  was,  he  took  up  the,  cry,  and  shouted  in  unison 
with  the  victors  upon  the  field. 

But  he  had  scarcely  uttered  the  notes  of  glory  and 
victory  before  his  strength  deserted  him,  and  he  would 
have  dropped  upon  the  ground  if  he  had  not  been 
caught  by  Hapgood.  He  groaned  heavily  as  he  sank 
into  the  arms  of  his  friend,  and  yielded  to  the  faint- 
ness  and  exhaustion  of  the  moment. 

The  surgeon  said  the  wound  was  not  a  very  bad  one, 
but  that  the  patient  was  completely  worn  out  by  the 
excessive  fatigues  of  march  and  battle.  In  due  time 
he  was  conveyed  to  the  college  building  in  Williams- 
burg, where  hundreds  of  his  companions  in  arms 
were  suffering  and  dying  of  their  wounds.  He  received 
every  attention  which  the  circumstances  would  permit. 
Hapgood,  by  sundry  vigorous  applications  at  head- 
quarters, was,  in  consideration  of  his  own  and  his 
protege's  good  conduct  on  the  battle  field,  permitted 
to  remain  with  tlie  patient  over  night. 

The    sergeant's    skull,  as  we  have   before    intimated, 
was    not    very    badly    damaged,    as    physical    injuries 
were    measured    after    the    bloody  battle   of   that    day. 
27 


314  '-^SJ^   SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

But  his  wound  was  uot  the  only  detriment  he  had 
experienced  in  the  trying  ordeal  of  that  terrible  day. 
His  constitution  had  not  yet  been  fully  developed  ;  his 
muscles  were  not  hardened,  and  the  fatigues  of  battle 
and  march  had  a  more  serious  effect  upon  him  than 
the  ounce  of  lead  which  had  struck  him  on  the  fore- 
head. 

The  surgeon  understood  his  case  perfectly,  and  after 
dressing  his  wound,  he  administered  some  simple  restora- 
tives, and  ordered  the  patient  to  go  to  sleep.  On  the 
night  of  the  3d  of  May,  he  had  been  on  guard  duty  ; 
on  that  of  the  4th,  he  had  obtained  but  three  hours' 
sleep  ;  and  thus  deprived  of  the  rest  which  a  growing 
boy  needs,  he  had  passed  through  the  fearful  scenes  of 
the  battle,  in  which  his  energies,  mental  and  physical, 
had  been  tasked  to  their  utmost.  He  was  completely 
worn  out,  and  in  spite  of  the  surroundings  of  the  hos- 
pital, he  went  to  sleep,  obeying  to  the  letter  the  orders 
of  the  surgeon. 

After  twelve  hours  of  almost  uninterrupted  slumber, 
Tom's  condition  was  very  materially  improved,  and  when 
the  doctor  went  his  morning  round,  our  sergeant  buoy- 
antly proposed  to  join  his  regiment  forthwith. 

"  Not  yet,  my  boy,"  said  the  surgeon,  kindly.  "  1 
shall  not  p^jrmit  you  to  do  duty  for  at  least  thirty  days 
t«  cop>e,"   \e  added,  as  he  felt  the  patient's  pulse. 

"^  ^    '■'" '    ;)retty  well,  sir,"  replied  Tom. 


Toyr  soMERS  jy  the  ar.vy. 


315 


*'  No,  you  dou't.  Your  regiment  will  remain  here,  I 
learn,  for  a  few  days,  and  you  must  keep  quiet,  or  you 
will  have  a  fever." 

"  I  don't  feel  sick,  and  my  head  doesn't  pain  me 
a  bit." 

"•  Tliat  may  be,  but  you  are  not  fit  for  duty.  You  did 
too  much  yesterday.  They  say  you  behaved  like  t  hero, 
on  the  field." 

''  I  tried  to  do  my  duty,"  replied  Tom,  his  pak  oheek 
suffused  with  a  blush. 

•'  Boys  like  you  can't  stand  much  of  such  work  as 
that.  We  must  fix  you  up  for  the  next  battle  ;  and  you 
shall  go  into  Richmond  with  the  rest  of  the  boys." 

''  Must  I  stay  in  here   all   the  time  ? " 

"  No,  you  may  go  where  you  please.  I  will  give  you 
a  certificate  which  will  keep  you  safe  from  harm.  You 
can  walk  about,  and  visit  your  regiment  if  you  wish." 

"  Thank  you,  doctor." 

Hapgood  had  been  compelled  to  leave  the  hospital 
before  his  patient  waked,  and  Tom  had  not  yet  learned 
any  thing  in  regard  to  the  casualties  of  the  battle. 
Armed  with  the  surgeon's  certificate,  he  left  the  hospital, 
and  walked  to  the  place  where  the  steward  told  him  he 
would  find  his  regiment.  Somewhat  to  his  astonish- 
ment he  found  that  he  was  very  weak  ;  and  before  he 
had  accomplished  half  the  distance  to  the  camp,  he  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  in  no  condition  to  carry  a 


QIQ  THE    SOLDI EE    BOY,    OR 

knapsack  and  a  musket  on  a  long  march.  But  afteai 
resting  himself  for  a  short  time,  he  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing his  friends. 

He  was  warmly  received  by  his  companions,  and  the 
veteran  of  the  company  had  nearly  hugged  him  in  his 
joy  and  admiration. 

"  Honorable  mention,  Tom,"  said  Hapgood.  "  You 
will  be  promoted  as  true  as  you  live." 

"  O,  I  guess  not,"  replied  Tom,  modestly.  "  I  didn't 
do  any  more  than  any  body  else.  At  any  rate,  you  were 
close  by  my  side,  uncle." 

"  Yes,  but  I  followed,  and  you  led.  The  commander 
of  the  division  says  you  shall  be  a  lieutenant.  He  said 
so  on  the  field,  and  the  colonel  said  so  to-day." 

"  I  don't  think  I  deserve  it." 

*'  I  do  ;  and  if  you  don't  get  a  commission,  then  there 
ain't  no  justice  left  in  the  land.  I  tell  you,  Tom,  you 
shall  be  a  brigadier  if  the  war  lasts  only  one  year 
more." 

"  O,  nonsense,  uncle  !  " 

"  Well,  if  you  ain't,  you  ought  to  be." 

"  I'm  lucky  to  get  out  alive.  Whom  have  we  lost, 
uncle?" 

"  A  good  many  fine  fellows,"  replied  Hapgood,  shaking 
his  head,  sadly. 

"Poor  Ben  dropped  early  in  the  day." 

"  Yes,  I  was  afraid  he'd  got  most  to  the  end  of  his 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE    ARMY.  33^7 

chapter  afore  we  went  iu.     Poor  fellow !     I'm  sorry  for 
him,  and  sorry  for  his  folks." 

''  Fred  Pemberton  said  he  should  be  killed,  and  Ben 
said  he  should  not,  you  remember." 

"  Yes,  and  that  shows  how  little  we  know  about  these 
things." 

''  Bob  Dornton  was  killed,  too." 

"  No,  he's  badly  hurt,  but  the  surgeon  thinks  he  will 
git  over  it.  The  cap'n  was  slightly  wounded."  And 
Hapgood  mentioned  the  names  of  those  in  the  company 
who  had  been  killed  or  wounded,  or  were  missing. 

"It  was  an  awful  day,"  sighed  Tom,  when  the  old 
man  had  finished  the  list.  "  There  wiU  be  sad  hearts  in 
Pinchbrook  when  the  news  gets  there." 

"  So  there  will,  Tom  ;  but  we  gained  the  day.  We 
did  something  handsome  for  '  Old  Glory,'  and  I  s'pose 
it's  all  right." 

"I  would  rather  have  been  killed  than  lost  the 
battle." 

"  So  would  I ;  and  betwixt  you  and  me,  Tom,  you 
didn't  come  very  fur  from  losing  your  number  in  the 
mess,"  added  the  veteran,  as  he  thrust  his  little  finger 
into  a  bullet  hole  in  the  breast  of  Tom's  coat.  "  That 
«vas  rather  a  close  shave." 

"I  felt  that  one,  but  I  hadn't  time  to  think  about  it 
then,   for  it  was  just  as  we  were   repelling   that  flank 
movement,"   replied  Tom,  as   he   unbuttoned  his  coat, 
27* 


318  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,  OR 

and  thrust  his  hand  into  his  breast  pocket.  "  Do  you 
suppose  she  will  give  me  another?"  lie  added,  as  he 
drew  forth  the  envelope  which  contained  the  letter  and 
the  photograph  of  the  author  of  his  socks. 

A  niinie  ball  had  found  its  way  through  the  envelope, 
grinding  a  furrow  through  the  picture,  transversely,  carry- 
ing away  the  chin  and  throat  of  the  young  lady.  The 
letter  Avas  mangled  and  minced  up  beyond  restoration. 
Tom  had  discovered  the  catastrophe  when  he  waked  up 
in  the  hospital,  for  his  last  thought  at  night,  and  his 
first  in  the  morning,  had  been  the  beautiful  Lilian  Ash- 
ford.  He  was  sad  when  he  first  beheld  the  wreck  ;  but 
when  he  thought  what  a  glorious  assurance  this  would  be 
of  his  conduct  on  the  field,  he  was  pleased  with  the  idea ; 
and  while  in  his  heart  he  thanked  the  rebel  marksmao 
for  not  putting  the  bullet  any  nearer  to  the  vital  orgar 
beneath  the  envelope,  he  was  not  ungrateful  for  th<* 
splendid  testimonial  he  had  given  him  of  his  positior 
during  the  battle. 

"  Of  course  she'll  give  you  another.  Won't  she  be 
proud  of  that  picture  when  she  gets  it  back  ?  " 

"  If  I  had  been  a  coward,  I  couldn't  have  run  away 
with  those  socks  on  my  feet." 

Tom  remained  with  the  regiment  several  hours,  and 
then,  in  obedience  to  the  surgeon's  orders,  returned  to  the 
hospital,  where  he  wrote  a  letter  to  his  father,  contain- 
ing a  short  account  of  the  battle,  and  another  to  Liliao 


TOM  SOMERS    /xV   THE   ARMY.  519 

Ashford,  setting  forth  the  accident  which  had  happened 
to  the  picture,  and  begging  her  to  send  him  another. 

I  am  afraid  in  this  hist  letter  Tom  indulged  in  some 
moonshiny  nonsense  ;  but  we  are  Avilling  to  excuse  him 
for  saying  that  the  thought  of  the  beautiful  original 
of  the  photograph  and  the  beautiful  author  of  his  socks 
had  inspired  him  with  courage  on  the  battle  field,  and 
enabled  him  faithfully  to  perform  his  duty,  to  the  honor 
and  glory  of  the  flag  beneath  whose  starry  folds  he  had 
fought,  bled,  and  conquered,  and  so  forth.  It  would  not 
be  unnatural  in  a  young  man  of  eighteen  to  express 
as  much  as  this,  and,  we  are  not  sure  that  he  said 
any  more. 

The  next  day  Tom  was  down  with  a  slow  fever, 
induced  by  fatigue  and  over-exertion.  He  lay  upon 
his  cot  for  a  fortnight,  before  he  was  able  to  go  out 
again  ;  but  he  was  frequently  visited  by  Hapgood  and 
other  friends  in  the  regiment.  About  the  middle  of  the 
month,  the  brigade  moved  on,  and  Tom  was  sad  at  the 
thought  of  lying  idle,  while  the  glorious  Avork  of  the 
army  was  waiting  for  true  and  tried  men. 

Tom  had  received  ''  honorable  mention  "  in  the  report 
of  the  colonel,  and' his  recommendation,  supported  by  that 
of  the  general  of  the  division,  brought  to  the  hospital 
his  commission  as  second  lieutenant. 

"Here's  medicine  for  you,"  said  the  chaplain,  as  h« 
Landed  the  patient  a  ponderous  envelope. 


320  '^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

*'  What  is  it,  sir?" 

"  I  don't  kuow,  but  it  lias  an  official  look." 

The  sergeant  opened  it,  and  read  the  commission,  duly 
signed  by  the  governor  of  Massachusetts,  and  counter- 
signed and  sealed  in  proper  form.  Tom  was  astounded 
at  the  purport  of  the  document.  He  could  hardly  believe 
his  senses  ;  but  it  read  all  right,  and  dated  from  the  day 
of  the  battle  in  which  he  had  distinguished  himself. 
This  was  glory  enough,  and  it  took  Tom  forty-eight  hours 
thoroughly  to  digest  the  contents  of  the  envelope. 

Lieutenant  Soniers  !  The  words  had  a  queer  sound, 
and  he  could  not  realize  that  he  was  a  commissioned 
officer.  But  he  came  to  a  better  understanding  of  the 
subject  the  next  day,  Avhen  a  letter  from  Lilian  Ashford 
was  placed  in  his  hands.  It  was  actually  addressed  to 
"  Lieutenant  Thomas  Somers."  She  had  read  of  his 
gallant  conduct  and  of  his  promotion  on  the  battle  field 
in  the  newspapers.  She  sent  him  two  photographs  of 
herself,  and  a  sweet  little  letter,  begging  him  to  return 
the  photograph  which  had  been  damaged  by  a  rebel 
bullet 

Of  course  Tom  complied  with  this  natural  request : 
but,  as  the  surgeon  thought  his  patient  would  improve 
faster  at  home  than  in  the  hospital,  he  had  procured 
a  furlough  of  thirty  days  for  him,  and  the  lieutenant 
decided  to  present  the  photograph  in  person. 


TOM  SOMERS    IN    THE   AHMY.  321 


€ 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

LIEUTENANT    SOMERS    AND    OTHERS. 

'OM  SOMERS  had  been  absent  from  home 
nearly  a  year ;  and  much  as  his  heart  was  in 
the  work  of  putting  dewn  the  rebellion,  he  was 
delighted  with  the  thought  of  visiting,  even  for  a  brief 
period,  the  loved  ones  who  thought  of  and  prayed  for 
him  in  the  little  cottage  in  Pinchbrook.  I  am  not  quite 
sure  that  the  well-merited  promotion  he  had  just  re- 
ceived did  not  have  some  influence  upon  him,  for  it 
would  not  have  been  unnatural  for  a  young  man  of 
eighteen,  who  had  won  his  shoulder-straps  by  hard  fight- 
ing on  a  bloody  field,  to  feel  some  pride  in  the  laurels  he 
had  earned.  Not  that  Tom  was  proud  or  vain  ;  but  he 
was  moved  by  a  lofty  and  noble  ambition.  It  is  quite 
likely  he  wondered  what  the  people  of  Pinchbrook  would 
say  when  he  appeared  there  with  the  straps  upon  his 
■houlders. 

Of  course  he  thought  what  his  father  would  say,  what 
his  mother  would  say,  and  he  could  see  the  wrinkled 
face  of  gran'ther  Greene   expand   into   a   genial   smile 


322  ^^^   SOLDIER    HOY,    OR 

of  commendation.  It  is  quite  possible  that  he  had  even 
more  interest  in  his  reception  at  No  —  Rutland  Street, 
when  he  should  present  himself  to  the  author  and 
finisher  of  those  marvellous  socks,  which  had  wielded 
puch  an  immense  influence  upon  their  wearer  in  camp 
and  on  the  field.  Perhaps  it  was  a  weakness  on  the  part 
of  the  soldier  boy,  but  we  are  compelled  to  record  the 
fact  that  he  had  faithfully  conned  his  speech  for  that 
interesting  occasion.  He  had  supposed  every  thing  she 
would  say,  and  carefully  prepared  a  suitable  reply  to 
each  remark,  adorned  with  all  the  graces  of  rhetoric 
within  his  reach. 

With  the  furlouirh  in  his  pocket,  Tom  obtained  his 
order  for  transportation,  and  with  a  light  heart,  full  of 
pleasant  anticipations,  started  for  home.  As  he  was 
still  dressed  in  the  faded  and  shattered  uniform  of  a 
non-commissioned  officer,  he  did  not  attract  any  particu- 
lar notice  on  the  way.  He  was  enabled  to  pass  through 
Baltimore,  Philadelphia,  and  New  York,  without  being 
bored  by  a  public  reception,  Avhicli  some  less  deserving 
heroes  have  not  been  permitted  to  escape.  But  the  peo- 
ple did  not  understand  that  Tom  had  a  second  lieutenant's 
commission  in  his  pocket,  and  he  was  too  modest  to 
proclaim  the  fact,  which  may  be  the  reason  why  he  was 
suffered  to  pass  through  these  great  emporiums  of  trade 
without  an  escort,  or  other  demonstration  of  respect 
and  admiration. 


TOM  SOMEIiS    IN    THE   AP.MY.  325 

Tom's  heart  jumped  with  strange  emotions  when  he 
arrived  at  Boston,  perhaps  because  he  was  within  a  few 
miles  of  home  ;  possibly  because  he  was  in  the  citji 
that  contained  Lilian  Ashford,  for  boys  will  be  silly  in 
spite  of  all  the  exertions  of  parents,  guardians,  and 
teachers,  to  make  them  sober  and  sensible.  Such  ab- 
surdities  as  *•'  the  air  she  breathes,"  and  other  rhapsodies 
of  that  sort,  may  have  flitted  through  his  mind ;  but  we 
are  positive  that  Tom  did  not  give  voice  to  any  such 
nonsense,  for  every  body  in  the  city  was  a  total  stranger 
to  liim,  so  far  as  he  knew.  Besides,  Tom  had  no  notion 
of  appearing  before  the  original  of  the  photograph  in  the 
rusty  uniform  he  Avore  ;  and  as  he  had  to  Avait  an  hour 
for  the  Pinchbrook  train,  he  hastened  to  a  tailor's  to 
order  a  suit  of  clothes  Avhich  would  be  appropriate  to 
his  new  dignity. 

He  did  order  them,  was  duly  measured,  and  had 
given  the  tailor  his  promise  to  call  for  the  garments  at 
the  expiration  of  five  days,  when  the  man  of  shears  dis- 
turbed the  serene  current  of  his  meditations  by  suggest- 
ing that  the  lieutenant  should  pay  one  half  of  the  price 
of  the  suit  in  advance. 

*'  It  is  a  custom  we  adopt  in  all  our  dealings  with 
strangers,"  politely  added  the  tailor. 

"  But  I  don't  propose  to  take  the  uniform  away  until 
it  is  paid  for,"  said  Tom,  blushing  with  mortification; 


324  ^^^    SOLDIER    ROY,    OR 

for  it  so  happened  that  he  had  not  money  enough  to  meet 
the  demand  of  the  tailor. 

"  Certainly  not,"  blandly  replied  Shears ;  "  but  we 
cannot  make  up  the  goods  with  the  risk  of  not  disposing 
of  them.  They  may  not  fit  the  next  man  who  wants 
5uch  a  suit." 

''  I  have  not  the  money,  sir ;  "  and  Tom  felt  that  the 
confession  was  an  awful  sacrifice  of  dignity  on  the  part 
of  an  officer  in  the  army  of  the  Potomac,  who  had 
fought  gallantly  for  his  country  on  the  bloody  fields  of 
Williamsburg  and  Bull  Run. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  sir.  I  should  be  happy  to  make 
up  the  goods,  but  you  will  see  that  our  rule  is  a  rea- 
sonable one." 

Tom  wanted  to  tell  him  that  this  lack  of  confidence 
was  not  a  suitable  return  of  a  stay-at-home  for  the  peril 
and  privation  he  had  endured  for  him ;  but  he  left 
in  disgust,  hardly  replying  to  the  flattering  request  of 
the  tailor  that  he  would  call  again.  With  his  pride 
touched,  he  walked  do^vn  to  the  railroad  station  to 
await  the  departure  of  the  train.  He  had  hardly  en- 
tered the  building  before  he  discovered  the  familiar 
form  of  Captain  Barney,  to  whom  he  hastened  to 
present  himself. 

"  Why,  Tom,  my  hearty  ! "  roared  the  old  sea  cap- 
tain, as  he  grasped  and  wrung  his  hand.  "  I'm  glad 
J,D  see  you.     Shiver  my  mainmast,  but  you've  grown  a 


TOM   SOMERS    IN    THE   ARMY.  ^^A 

foot  since  you  went  away.     But  you  don't  look  well, 
Tom." 

"  I'm  not  very  well,  sir ;  but  I'm  improving  v^ery 
rapidly." 

''How's  your  wound?" 

*'0,  that's  almost  well." 

*'  Sit  down,  Tom.  I  want  to  talk  with  you,'*  said 
Captain  Barney,  as  he  led  the  soldier  boy  to  a  seat. 

In  half  an  hour  Tom  had  told  all  he  knew  about 
the  battle  of  Williamsburg,  and  the  old  sailor  had  com- 
municated  all  the  news  from  Pinchbrook. 

"  Tom,  you're  a  lieutenant  now,  but  you  haven't 
got  on  your  uniform,"  continued  Captain  Barney. 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  Tom,  laughing.  "  I  went  into  a 
store  to  order  one,  and  they  wouldn't  trust  me." 

"  Wouldn't  trust  yow,  Tom !  "  exclaimed  the  cap- 
tain. "  Show  me  the  place,  and  I'll  smash  in  their 
deadlights." 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  blame  them.  I  was  a  stranger 
to  them." 

"  But,  Tom,  you  mustn't  go  home  without  a  uniform. 
Come  with  me,  and  you  shall  be  fitted  out  at  once. 
I'm  proud  of  you,  Tom.  You  are  one  of  my  boys, 
and  I  want  you  to  go  into  Pinchbrook  all  taut  and 
trim,  with  your  colors  flying." 

"  We  haven't  time  now ;  the  train  leaves  in  a  few 
moments." 

28 


g26  THE    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

*' There  will  be  another  in  an  hour.  The  folks  ar© 
all  well,  and  don't  know  you're  coming;  so  they  can 
afford  to  >yait." 

Tom  consented,  and  Captain  Barney  conducted  him 
to  several  stores  before  he  could  find  a  ready-made 
uniform  that  would  fit  him ;  but  at  last  they  found  on« 
which  had  been  made  to  order  for  an  officer  who  was 
too  sick  to  use  it  at  present.  It  Avas  an  excellent  fit,  and 
the  young  lieutenant  was  soon  arrayed  in  the  garments, 
with  the  symbolic  straps  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Bravo,  Tom  !  You  look  like  a  new  man.  There 
isn't  a  better  looking  officer  in  the  service." 

Very  likely  the  subject  of  this  remark  thought  so  too, 
as  he  surveyed  himself  in  the  full-length  mirror.  The 
old  uniform,  with  two  bullet-holes  in  the  breast  of  the 
coat,  was  done  up  in  a  bundle  and  sent  to  the  express 
office,  to  be  forwarded  to  Pinchbrook.  Captain  Barney  . 
then  walked  Avith  him  to  a  military  furnishing  store, 
where  a  cap,  sword,  belt,  and  sash,  were  purchased. 
For  some  reason  which  he  did  not  explain,  the  captain 
retain,ed  the  sword  himself,  but  Tom  was  duly  invested 
with  the  other  accoutrements. 

Our  hero  felt  "  pretty  good,"  as  he  walked  down  to 
the  station  with  his  friend ;  but  he  looked  splendidly  in 
his  new  outfit,  and  we  are  Milling  to  excuse  certain  im- 
pressible young  ladies,  who  cast  an  admiring  glance  at 
him  as  he  passed  down  the  street.     It  was  not  Tom's 


TOM   SOMERS    /.V    THE    ARMY-  327 

fault  tliat  he  was  a  handsome  young  man ;  and  he 
was  not  responsible  for  the  conduct  of  those  who  chose 
to  look  at  him. 

With  a  heart  beating  with  wild  emotion,  Tom  stepped 
out  of  the  cars  at  Pinchbrook.  Here  he  was  compelled 
to  undergo  the  penalty  of  greatness.  His  friends  cheered 
him,  and  shook  his  hand  till  his  arm  ached. 

Captain  Barney's  wagon  was  at  the  station,  and  be- 
fore going  to  his  own  home,  he  drove  Tom  to  the  little 
cottage  of  his  father.  I  cannot  describe  the  emotions 
of  the  returned  soldier  when  the  horse  stopped  at  the 
garden  gate.  Leaping  from  the  vehicle,  he  rushed  into 
the  house,  and  bolted  into  the  kitchen,  even  before  the 
family  had  seen  the  horse  at  the  front  gate. 

'' Hox-'d  ye  do,  mother?"  cried  Tom,  as  he  threw 
himself  pell-mell  into  the  arms  of  'Mrs.  Somers. 

"  Why,  Tom !  "  almogt  screamed  she,  as  she  re- 
turned his  embrace.     ''How  do  you  do?" 

*' Pretty  well,  mother.     How  do  you  do,  father?" 

"  Glad  to  see  you,"  replied  Captain  Somers,  as  he 
seized  his  son's  hand. 

"  Bless  my  soul,  Tom  !  "  squeaked  gran'ther  Greene, 
shaking  in  every  fibre  of  his  frame  from  the  com- 
bined influence  of  rhapsody  and  rheumatism. 

Tom  threw  both  arms  around  Jenny's  neck,  and 
kissed  her  half  a  dozen  times  with  a  concussion  like 
thai  of  a  Lattery  of  light  artillery. 


328  ^^^    SOLDIER    BOY,    OR 

'*  Why,  Tom  I  I  never  thought  nothin'  of  seein*  you  !  ** 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Somers.  ''  I  thought  you  was  sick  in 
the  hospital." 

"  I  am  better  now,  and  home  for  thirty  days." 

"  And  got  your  new  rig  on,"  added  his  father. 

"  Captain  Barney  wouldn't  let  me  come  home  with- 
out my  shoulder-straps.  I  met  him  in  the  city.  He 
paid  the  bills." 

^'  I'll  make  it  all  right  with  him." 

''  I'll  pay  for  it  by  ami  by.  You  know  I  have  over 
a  hundred  dollars  a  month  now." 

"  Gracious  me !  "  ejaculated  Mrs.  Somers,  as  she 
gazed  with  admiration  upon  the  new  and  elegant 
uniform  which  covered  the  fine  form  of  her  darling 
boy. 

Presently  Captain  Barney  came  into  the  house,  and 
for  two  hours  Tom  fought  his  battles  over  again,  to  the 
great  satisfaction  of  his  partial  auditors.  The  day 
passed  off  amid  the  mutual  rejoicings  of  the  parties  ; 
and  the  pleasure  of  the  occasion  was  only  marred  by 
the  thought,  on  the  mother's  part,  that  her  son  must 
soon  return  to  the  scene  of  strife. 

The  soldier  boy  —  we  beg  his  pardon ;  Lieutenant 
Somers  —  hardly  went  out  of  the  house  until  after 
dinner  on  the  following  day,  when  he  took  a  walk 
down  to  the  harbor,  where  he  was  warmly  greeted 
by  all   his  friends.      Even   Squire    Pemberton    seemed 


7  O  M    S  O  ME  RS    IX    THE    A  R  M  T.  329 

kindly  disposed  towards  him,  and  asked  him  man^ 
questions  in  regard  to  Fred.  Before  he  went  home, 
he  was  not  a  little  startled  to  receive  an  invitation 
to  meet  some  of  his  friends  in  the  town  hall  in 
the  evening,  which  it  was  impossible  for  him  to 
decline. 

At  the  appointed  hour,  he  appeared  at  the  hall,  which 
was  filled  with  people.  The  lieutenant  did  not  know 
what  to  make  of  it,  and  trembled  before  his  friends  at 
he  had  never  done  before  the  enemies  of  his  country. 
He  was  cheered  lustily  by  the  men,  and  the  women 
waved  their  handkerchiefs,  as  though  he  had  been  a 
general  of  division.  But  his  confusion  reached  the 
climax  when  Captain  Barney  led  him  upon  the  plat- 
form, and  Mr.  Boltwood,  a  young  lawyer  resident  in 
Pinchbrook,  proceeded  to  address  him  in  highly  com- 
plimentary terms,  reviewing  his  career  at  Bull  Run,  on 
the  Shenandoah,  on  the  Potomac,  to  its  culmination  at 
Williamsburg,  and  concluded  by  presenting  him  the 
sword  which  the  captain  hud  purchased,  in  behalf  of 
his  friends  and  admirers  in  his  native  to^vn. 

Fortunately  for  Tom,  the  speech  was  long,  as  he  was 
enabled  in  some  measure  to  recover  his  self-possession. 
In  trembling  tones  he  thanked  the  donors  for  their  gift, 
and  promised  to  use  it  in  defence  of  his  country  as 
long  as  a  drop  of  blood  was-  left  in  his  veins  —  highly 
poetical,  but  it  required  strong  terms  to  express  our 
28* 


330 


THE    SOLDIER    EOT,  OR 


hero's  enthusiasm  —  whereat  the  men  and  boys  ap- 
plauded most  vehemently,  and  the  ladies  flourished  their 
cambrics  with  the  most  commendable  zeal.  Tom  bowed 
—  bowed  again  —  and  kept  bowing,  just  as  he  had  seen 
General  McClellan  bow  when  he  Avas  cheered  by  the 
troops.  As  the  people  would  not  stop  applauding, 
Tom,  his  face  all  aglow  with  joy  and  confusion,  de- 
scended from  the  platform,  and  took  his  seat  by  the 
side  of  his  mother. 

The  magnates  of  Pinchbrook  then  made  speeches  — 
except  Squire  Pemberton  —  about  the  war,  patriotism, 
gunpowder,  and  -eleven-inch  shot  and  shells.  P^vcry 
body  thought  it  was  "  a  big  thing,"  and  went  home 
to  talk  about  it  for  the  next  week.  Tom's  father,  and 
mother,  and  sister,  and  gran'ther  Greene,  said  ever  so 
many  pretty  things,  and  every  body  was  as  happy  as 
happy  could  be,  except  that  John  Avas  not  at  home  to 
share  in  the  festivities.  Letters  occasionally  came  from 
the  sailor  boy,  and  they  went  to  him  from  the  soldier 
boy. 

Mrs.  Somers  was  not  a  little  surprised,  the  next 
day,  to  hear  her  son  announce  his  intention  to  take 
the  first  train  for  the  city ;  but  Tom  could  not  post- 
pone his  visit  to  No  —  Rutland  Street  any  longer,  for 
he  was  afraid  his  uniform  would  lose  its  gloss,  and 
the  shoulder-straps  their  dazzling  brilliancy. 

Tom's    courage    had    nearly  forsaken    him  when    he 


TGM   SO  ME  US    IN    THE    ARMY.  331 

desperately  rang  the  bell  at  the  home  of  Lilian  Ash- 
lord  ;  and  he  almost  hoped  the  servant  would  inform 
him  that  she  was  not  at  home.  Lilian  was  at  home, 
and  quaking  like  a  condemned  criminal  before  the 
gallows,  he  was  ushered  into  tlie  presence  of  the  author 
of  his  socks. 

Stammering  out  his  name  he  drew  from  his  pocket 
the  battered  photograph  and  the  shattered  letter,  and 
proceeded  at  once  to  business.  Lilian  Ashford  blushed, 
and  Tom  blushed  —  that  is  to  say,  they  both  blushed. 
When  he  had  presented  his  relics,  he  ventured  to  look  in 
her  face.  The  living  Lilian  was  even  more  beautiful 
than  the  Lilian  of  the  photograph. 

"  Dear  me !  So  you  are  the  soldier  that  wore  the 
socks  I  knit,"  said  Lilian ;  and  our  hero  thought  it 
was  the  sweetest  voice  he  ever  heard. 

"  I  am.  Miss  Ashford,  and  I  did  not  run  away  in 
them  either." 

"  I'm  glad  you  did  not,"  added  she,  with  a  musical 
laugh,  which  made  Tom  think  of  the  melody  of  the 
spheres,  or  some  such  nonsense. 

"  I  have  to  thank  you  for  my  promotion,"  said  Tom, 
boldly. 

"  Thank  me !  "  exclaimed  she,  her  fair  blue  eyes 
dilating  with  astonishment. 

''  The  socks  inspired  me  with  courage  and  forti* 
tude,"    replied    Tom,    in    exact    accordance    with    the 


332  THE    SOLDIER   BOY,    OR 

programme  lie  had  laid  do^\^l  for  the  occasion.  "  1 
am  sure  the  thought  of  her  who  kuit  them,  the  beau- 
tiful letter,  and  the  more  beautiful  photograph,  enabled 
me  to  do  that  which  won  my  promotion." 

"  Well,  I  declare ! "  shouted  Lilian,  in  a  kind  of 
silvery  scream. 

Bravo,  Tom !  you  are  getting  along  swimmingly. 
And  he  said  sundry  other  smart  things  which  we 
have  not  room  to  record.  He  staid  half  an  liour,  and 
Lilian  begged  liim  to  call  again,  and  see  her  grand- 
mother, wlio  was  out  of  town  that  day.  Of  course 
he  promised  to  come,  promised  to  bring  his  photograph, 
promised  to  write  to  her  when  he  returned  to  the 
army  —  and  I  don't  know  what  he  did  not  promise, 
and  I  hardly  think  he  knew  himself. 

But  the  brief  dream  ended,  and  Tom  went  home  to 
Pinchbrook,  after  he  had  sat  for  his  picture.  The 
careless  fellow  left  Lilian's  photograph  on  the  table 
in  his  chamber  a  few  days  after,  and  his  mother 
wanted  to  know  whose  it  was  ;  and  the  whole  story 
came  out,  and  Tom  was  laughed  at,  and  Jenny  made 
fun  of  him,  and  Captain  Barney  told  him  he  was  a 
match  for  the  finest  girl  in  the  country.  The  lieu- 
tenant  blushed  like  a  boy,  but  rather  enjoyed  the 
whole  thing. 

A  sad  day  came  at  last,  and  Tom  went  back  to 
the    army.     He    went    full   of   hope,    and    the    blesshig 


TOAf   SOMA'JiS    j\    THE   AH  Mr.  333 

>f  the  loved  oues  weut  with  him.  He  was  re- 
L'eived  with  euthusiasm  by  his  old  coinpauions  iu 
arms,  aud  Ilapgood  —  theu  a  scrgeaut  —  still  dechired 
that  he  would  be  a  brigadier  iu  due  time,  —  or,  if 
he  was  uot,  he  ought  to  be.  His  subsequent  career, 
if  uot  always  as  fortunate  as  that  portion  which 
we  have  recorded,  was  unstained  by  cowardice  or 
ic«. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
21 


